


Children of the Forest

by garafthel (sister_wolf)



Series: Children of the Forest, Children of the Stone [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M, this story is on hold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 60,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/garafthel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tauriel falls in with Dwarves, becomes friends with a Hobbit, flirts with a Prince, and goes on an entirely unexpected adventure.</p>
<p>NOTE: This story is on hold until after Flowers is done -- which could be quite a while, fair warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story in January of 2013 as an experiment in imagining what the rumored relationship between Tauriel and Kili would be like. As a result, this is a mix of book and movie canon. It also includes certain AU elements, such as a fairly major OMC and some wild extrapolation about Silvan Elf culture.
> 
> A big thank-you to SorchaCahill and Seimaisin for beta-reading, cheerleading, and being a source of Excellent Ideas.

Tauriel grinned at the worried-looking trainee scout. "Dwarves? Spot _me_ when I'm hiding? Don't make me laugh."

***

Staring down the bead of an arrow held on her by a scruffy, dark-haired Dwarf, Tauriel felt more than a little foolish for her earlier boasting. Still, who had ever heard of Dwarves using bows?

Tauriel held her hands palm-out at waist-height to indicate that she was not holding any weapons. She could speak Westron a great deal more fluently than most Silvan Elves, but was unsure if Dwarves spoke the common tongue at all.

"How many more of you are there?" he demanded in Westron. Well, that answered that question.

"I am the only scout in this part of the forest," she answered in the same language. She was telling the truth; the only other Elf who had been with her was a trainee, not a scout. Hopefully he would have the sense to stay where she had left him, hidden in the trees while she went to investigate the Dwarves on her own.

"Why were you sneaking about? Are you spying on us?" The Dwarf looked rather wild around the eyes.

Up close, she could see that though he was ragged and dirty, he did not look as different from Elf-kind as she had always been told Dwarves were. He did not have a beard down to his knees, nor a horned helmet, nor was he wider than he was tall. In fact he easily came up to her shoulder, which made her feel a little bitter. She had always been short, even for a Silvan Elf, but it seemed unfair that she could not even tower over Dwarves.

"Because sneaking about in the forest is my job. You and your companions, on the other hand, are trespassing." She watched his eyes for a flicker of inattention, a moment where she could escape into the trees, but his dark brown eyes remained steady on her.

"We were bothering no one, simply passing through. We did kill several giant spiders yesterday though, so if you think about it we've done your people a service," he added with a quick grin that lit up his eyes with deviltry. Tauriel realized with an uncomfortable twist in her belly that he was actually very handsome despite his ragged appearance. She shoved that thought away hurriedly.

A fairly laughable imitation of an owl's hoot came from nearby. The Dwarf responded with two hoots--not much better--and a light-haired Dwarf appeared from the underbrush. This one was quite hairy, including a thick beard and what looked like moustache braids, and shorter than the other one. At least not all of the stories Tauriel had been told were complete fabrications.

"What have you done, Kíli?" the blond Dwarf asked.

Kíli (for that must be the dark-haired Dwarf's name) beamed at him and said proudly, "I caught an Elf spy!"

"Scout," Tauriel corrected.

The blond Dwarf raised his eyebrows. "So I see. I have no idea what Uncle is going to say about this. Spy or not--"

"Scout!"

"--we are in King Thranduil's lands," he finished.

There was a flicker of worry on Kíli's face before he shrugged and tried to look unconcerned. "Well, what's done is done. My lady Elf, my brother Fíli will have to take your weapons and tie your hands. I do apologize."

"Be careful with that," Tauriel snapped as Fíli pulled her bow from its sling across her back.

"I promise you that until your bow is returned to you, I will take care of it as if it were my own," Kíli said, while Fíli unbuckled the belt that held her two short-swords and removed the dagger she carried in a boot-sheath.

"I accept your promise, Kíli of the Dwarves," Tauriel said, nodding her head to him. The exchange was made a little surreal by the fact that Kíli still had an arrow drawn on her.

Fíli sighed. "If you two are done--"

Kíli said something urgently in a language Tauriel didn't understand, but she suspected it translated to _Shut up!_.

"--I think we'd better take her to Uncle, and quickly too." Fíli bound her hands before her. Tauriel was hard-pressed not to roll her eyes at that. These two must be inexperienced, or possibly never have encountered Elves before, to think that binding her hands in front of her would prove anything more than a momentary disadvantage.

She would bide her time, pick up any information she could, and then escape the minute their guard was lowered. As long as her idiot trainee stayed put and didn't do anything stupid like trying to rescue her, this could actually work to their advantage.

Fíli and Kíli escorted her into a small clearing where several Dwarves sat huddled together around a weakly flickering campfire. From a brief glance Tauriel could tell they were in even poorer shape than she had thought when she had been shadowing them from the trees. Their packs looked almost empty, two or three were injured, and their clothing and gear was worn and patched. She thought their faces also looked gaunt and drawn, though admittedly she wasn't sure what was normal for a Dwarf.

She was led to a fallen tree at the far side of the clearing, where a somber Dwarf with a distinctly regal air sat as if it were a throne. To one side of him stood a large Dwarven warrior with tattoos on his bald head and an air of brutal competence, and on the other a stout, white-bearded Dwarf with a wise demeanor.

"Thorin, we captured an Elf who was spying on us from the forest," Kíli reported eagerly.

Tauriel's ears perked up at that. If she was not entirely mistaken, Thorin was the name of old King Thror's grandson. Why would a Dwarven prince be journeying across Mirkwood? Unless they meant to visit the ruins of Erebor. But the great dragon still slumbered there deep within the caverns, so that was patently ridiculous. Not without an army at any rate. More likely they were traveling to the Dwarven kingdom in the Iron Hills, which lay to the east of Mirkwood.

Thorin took a moment to look her over before responding. "That was well done," he told the young Dwarves, who seemed to be close to bursting with pride. "What have you to say for yourself?" he asked Tauriel.

Tauriel met the prince's eyes steadily. "I am Tauriel, of the Forest Guard." Definitely no need to mention the fact that she was the Captain of the Forest Guard. "Our duty is to keep a watchful eye for trespassers into Mirkwood. King Thranduil rules these lands and they may only be entered by his leave."

"Thranduil," he muttered bitterly. "Do not speak that name to me."

Tauriel raised an eyebrow. "Well, as he is the King of this forest, it will be difficult for me to avoid mentioning his name entirely." 

Kíli smothered a laugh, getting a glare from Thorin. The young Dwarf quickly sobered and stood up very straight as he told the prince, "She said there weren't any other scouts nearby."

"Even if that's true, we must assume that she's already sent word to warn the Elvenking of our presence," the large, bald Dwarf said. "We need to keep moving." Tauriel stiffened, insulted by the implication that she might be lying. She would misdirect and play word games, certainly, but she had honor and would not tell a complete lie.

"The men are exhausted," the white-haired oldster objected. "And if we try to march at night, we'll like as not march ourselves right into a giant spider's nest. Again."

"We move at first light," Thorin said, standing. "Fíli and Kíli, keep watch on the Elf. Do not lose her."

This seemed to have some significance, for the two young Dwarves chorused, "Yes, Thorin," without cracking a smile. With that, they were clearly dismissed.

***

The brothers shoved each other good-naturedly as they led Tauriel to a Dwarf of impressive girth sitting by the campfire.

"Dinner," the large Dwarf said morosely as he handed Fíli and Kíli a few small pieces of cured meat. He flicked an uninterested glance at Tauriel before wrapping himself up in his cloak and lying down with his back to them.

The brothers both groaned, Kíli objecting, "But that's hardly enough to feed a cat!" The large Dwarf flapped a hand dismissively at them but otherwise did not react.

"Well, it's what we've got," said a Dwarf with a ridiculous hat. He meowed and the nearby Dwarves chuckled at him. "Have a seat. Who's this, then?"

"Kíli caught himself an Elven scout," Fíli said with a small, crooked smile as he sat down.

Tauriel felt a hand at her elbow. She jerked her head to the side to see that it was Kíli holding her elbow. His dark eyes wide, he urged her gently, "Have a seat, my lady."

Tauriel snorted. "I'm no noblewoman, nor do I need assistance to sit." But she did not pull away as she sat down, and so Kíli ended up sitting close enough to her that she could feel his upper arm brush against hers.

"Bofur, at your service," the Dwarf with the ridiculous hat said, taking it off as he swept her as much of a bow as was possible while seated.

"Tauriel, of the Forest Guard," she replied. There followed a round of introductions that left her head spinning with names, as all of the Dwarves who were nearby and still awake introduced themselves.

"Kíli, Fíli, Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, Ori, Mori--no, Nori," she repeated, trying to keep them all straight in her head. Bofur had a ridiculous hat and a charming grin, Bifur had an axe actually embedded in his skull (and had grunted at them unintelligibly and then gone back to sleep), Bombur was the morose Dwarf who had handed out food, Ori appeared to be little more than a child, and Nori looked like a good Dwarf to have at your enemy's back in a fight. Three other Dwarves were asleep on the far side of the fire, snoring loudly.

There was one with them who did not appear to be a Dwarf at all. He was shorter than the Dwarves, with curly hair, no beard, and large furry feet. "Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire," he introduced himself.

"Tauriel, of Mirkwood," she answered. "I do not wish to cause offense, but may I ask what manner of person are you?"

"Oi, he's a burglarrobbit, he is!" Bofur exclaimed. This was followed by a chorus of laughter and some confusing chatter about Bilbo saving all of them from Trolls who'd attempted to eat them for dinner. Or possibly nearly getting them all skinned alive--it was a little unclear. She could feel Kíli shaking with laughter beside her.

"Yes, well. I'm a Hobbit," Bilbo said, looking a little embarrassed by the commotion. "Are you... are you a Wood Elf?"

She'd never heard of Hobbits before. Maybe they were related to Dwarves somehow, though he didn't much look like one. Tauriel nodded and said, "I am a Silvan Elf, yes. Have you never met an Elf before?"

"We went to Rivendell and met Lord Elrond and his people. But I've never met a Wood Elf--or rather a Silvan Elf--before."

"You certainly have traveled far," Tauriel said, impressed. She'd never been beyond the edge of the forest, much less beyond the Misty Mountains. "I think Lord Elrond's people are probably mostly Sindar, Grey Elves. Though Lord Elrond's heritage is a little more complicated than that--he's related to the High Elves, the Noldor. Most non-Elves don't realize that there's any difference between our peoples." She tried to keep her voice from going bitter at the end, but suspected she'd failed.

"If you wouldn't mind, only I wouldn't want to impose... could I perhaps ask you some questions about Silvan Elves later? I've always been fascinated by Elves," Bilbo said shyly.

"I would be glad to," Tauriel smiled.

Bilbo beamed and thanked her before sitting down next to Bofur. The little Hobbit was rather adorable. And finally, she'd discovered a people she actually towered over! Unless it turned out that Bilbo was unusually short for a Hobbit, which would just figure.

Kíli cleared his throat and bent his head close enough to hers that his hair brushed against her cheek. "I would also be interested in learning about your people. I could tell you about Dwarves," he offered. "Well... not the secrets that I'm not allowed to tell outsiders. Or, um, the language. But everything else!"

She was pretty sure that she heard a muffled snicker from Fíli, who sat next to her on the other side. Tauriel could feel the tips of her ears going pink and was glad that they were probably hidden by the dim light.

"I would like that," she said, shifting a little uncomfortably. He was very attractive, even if he was a Dwarf, and unless she was wildly misinterpreting his behavior Kíli was flirting with her. However, he was a Dwarf, probably some kind of nobility judging by him referring to Thorin as "uncle," and appeared to be young for one of their kind. It would really be unfortunate if she ended up getting beheaded by a Dwarven prince for flirting with his underage nephew.

"Here, have some dinner," Kíli said, offering her the larger of the two chunks of cured meat that he'd received from Bombur.

Tauriel's brows drew together as she gave him a close look. Unlike most of the other Dwarves he was not covered in excessive facial hair, and so it was easier to tell that he was gaunt-cheeked and hollow-eyed. "You're starving, aren't you?" she asked, too startled to keep her voice low.

Kíli winced. "I wouldn't put it that way..."

"I would," Bofur said emphatically.

"What I wouldn't give for a nice venison stew," Fíli said. The others quickly chimed in with descriptions of the food they would eat if they had it. Bilbo got some odd looks for mentioning mushroom soup. Heartbreakingly, the youngest-looking one, Ori said that he'd give anything for a piece of bread.

Tauriel stared down at her bound hands, biting her lip. This was not a good idea. In fact, this was a terrible idea. If word got back to Thranduil that she'd helped the Dwarves, even in such a small way, she might very well lose her position as Captain. But she couldn't let them starve, not when she had food to share. "Kíli, I'm going to need you to unfasten the clasps on my surcoat."

His eyes widened in a way that she had to admit, if only to herself, was endearingly hilarious. "You need me to what?"

"I can't do it with my hands bound. Unfasten the front clasps on my surcoat and open up the belt pouch I'm carrying on my left-hand side. Your right side," she added when he only blinked at her as if he'd been hit over the head by something heavy.

"I, um, yes!" he said, scrambling to kneel in front of her. He reached out his hands and then hesitated, his cheeks flushing red.

"I am wearing leather armor under my surcoat," Tauriel offered after letting him squirm for a few moments.

"Right," he said, shaking himself. With surprising delicacy, Kíli unfastened the dozen clasps that held the front of her surcoat closed. It was entirely too intimate to watch him as he unfastened her surcoat, so Tauriel looked away and felt her ears flush bright red as she realized that all of the Dwarves on this side of the fire, plus the Hobbit, were watching them. She thanked the Valar that Thorin appeared to still be deeply engrossed in discussion with the elderly Dwarf and the tattooed Dwarf on the far end of the clearing.

Kíli frowned as he pulled a green-wrapped bundle out of her belt pouch. "Leaves?" he asked, sounding highly dubious.

Tauriel snorted. "It's what's inside the leaves that's important. Lembas bread."

"Bread?" Ori perked up.

"Not just any bread," she explained. "Lembas bread. One piece is more than enough to feed an Elf for a day of travel."

"Oh! I've heard of that," Bilbo said, sounding excited.

"How much do you have?" Fíli asked.

"Just five pieces. I didn't expect to be away from our main camp for more than a week. Or to need to feed a dozen hungry Dwarves," Tauriel said, smiling and shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it.

The bread was quickly and efficiently broken into thirds and distributed among the Dwarves. Bilbo was chosen to deliver bread to Thorin and his advisors.

"Best not mention to Thorin that this is Elven bread," one of the Dwarves said while tapping the side of his nose. The one with the strangely star-shaped hair... Mori? Bori? Nori! Yes, she was pretty sure his name was Nori.

"Agreed," Kíli and Fíli said simultaneously.

"Tell him that it's a gift from Beorn's folk," Bofur said. "They'll believe you. You've got that honest face. You don't look like you can lie half as well as you can."

"Err, thanks," Bilbo said, frowning as if he was unsure if that was a compliment. He accepted a handful of lembas bread and squared his shoulders before heading off to the other side of the clearing.

"Uncle is a little... stubborn when it comes to anything Elven," Kíli said.

Bofur laughed. "Aye, and granite's a little hard." The rest of the Dwarves chuckled. "Hey, this Elf bread is not half bad," he said, taking a little nibble of the lembas and then tucking the rest away inside his coat. Tauriel noted the other Dwarves following suit.

"Well, how about this," Tauriel said. "I won't mention to Thorin that it's Elven bread, and you don't mention to Thranduil that I gave it to you. Your prince may be stubborn when it comes to Elves, but he's got nothing on King Thranduil's attitude toward Dwarves."

"Our king," Fíli corrected. "Thorin is the King-in-Exile."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that King Thror and his son had passed. My condolences," Tauriel said, bowing her head to them.

"You don't get out of the forest much, do ya?" Bofur asked.

Tauriel shook her head. "I've never been out of the forest."

"Never?" Kíli asked incredulously.

Fíli frowned, saying, "I thought Thorin said King Thranduil's guard came with him to Erebor."

"Right, the King's Royal Guard would have gone with him on any diplomatic trips. Bunch of Sindar nobles in pretty armor," Tauriel said, snorting. "No, the Forest Guard doesn't ever leave Mirkwood. Someone's got to do the real work while the Royal Guard is off shining their spears." She raised her eyebrows on the last phrase, tilting her head to the side.

It took them a second to get it, then the Dwarves started laughing uproariously (except for Ori, who looked confused and kept asking what was so funny.)

"Are you sure you're an Elf, lass?" Bofur asked, slapping his hand against his knee.

Tauriel shrugged, smiling. Elrond's people must be just as humour-deficient as Thranduil and his nobles.

"What are all of you doing, causing a ruckus at this hour?" Dwalin grumped as he stomped over to their side of the fire. Bilbo trotted along behind him, looking flustered. "Get to bed, you lot. We're moving on at first light. And you two," Dwalin nodded at Fíli and Kíli, "Make sure you don't lose the prisoner."

Tauriel felt her mood suddenly dampen. Had she actually managed to _forget_ that she was a prisoner? By Oromë's horn, she was an idiot.

With some grumbling, the Dwarves settled down, lying on the bare ground covered only by their cloaks. They seemed to divide themselves into little huddles based on (she assumed) family groups--Ori with Nori, Bofur with Bifur. The little Hobbit hovered uncertainly until Bofur snagged him and drew him down into their pile. Fíli plopped down unceremoniously next to Kíli.

Kíli nudged Tauriel's arm, saying quietly, "I must apologize, but Uncle told us not to lose you. Fíli, tie her wrists to one of mine."

"Surely you're joking," Tauriel said. "You think that I can escape unnoticed from the middle of what, a dozen Dwarves?" She could, of course, but not when she'd also need to untie her hands from his without waking him first.

Kíli shook his head, frowning a little. "We can't risk it. Not after what happened with the ponies." Tauriel wasn't sure whether she should feel insulted by the implied comparison to a pony.

She sighed. This might not be as easy to escape from as she had originally thought. "Fine," she said, and held her bound wrists up to be tied to one of his by Fíli, who looked silently amused by the whole thing.

They laid down a little awkwardly, facing each other with their bound wrists resting on the ground between them. Of course, now that she had no freedom to move her hands, she felt phantom itches all over and the strong urge to scratch her nose. Tauriel closed her eyes and attempted to meditate, since she certainly would not be able to sleep.

"I am sorry about this," Kíli whispered, shifting their bound wrists.

Tauriel opened her eyes. He was staring very intensely at her from only a few handbreadths away, and it was actually a little difficult to meet his gaze. "You are simply doing your duty, as was I," she said finally.

"Are you cold?" he asked. She shook her head, making a negative noise, but he shifted to throw his cloak over the both of them anyway. The cloth floated down over them, smelling of night air, broken pine needles, and a spicy musk that must be Kíli's own scent.

"I thank you for your kindness," she whispered, taking comfort in the formal words. The silence between them stretched, growing fraught with a sort of tension that Tauriel feared to name.

Naturally, that was when her idiot trainee decided to start attacking the Dwarven camp from the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> Oromë - A member of the Valar. The Lord of the Hunt; married to Vána.


	2. Chapter 2

As sling-stones rained down on the Dwarven camp, Tauriel smothered an incredulous laugh. "Unbelievable. The little idiot found a loophole."

***

Much earlier that day, one of Tauriel's most experienced scouts had brought word to her of an incursion into the western border of Mirkwood. He had only seen the intruders at a distance and thus was uncertain if they were Men or Orcs. Tauriel had immediately followed the scout back to the area where he had spotted the intruders.

And with them, unfortunately, came the spoiled young Elf she was supposed to somehow make into a passable scout. If she didn't kill him first.

When they located the trespassers, the truth proved to be less dire than Orcs but much more puzzling. Why would a Dwarven war band risk trespassing in Mirkwood after all these years? A band of Dwarves in rough shape, at that. They were traveling slowly on foot and a few appeared to be injured. Tauriel counted thirteen or perhaps fourteen of them. The thick tree cover made an accurate count almost impossible. Still, even a diminished Dwarven war band would prove a daunting challenge to two lightly armed scouts and a trainee.

"Filthy Dwarves," Cirdolas spat.

Tauriel made a quick hand gesture at him, the downward slashing movement that indicated _quiet_ , with the wrist twist at the end that implied an adult speaking to a foolish youngling. Cirdolas, flushed with embarrassment and anger, bowed his head so that his pale red hair hid his face. Tauriel shook her head and let the matter drop for the moment. Right now they had bigger things to worry about than a trainee scout's wounded pride.

Bigger things like the band of armed intruders currently picking their way through the underbrush far below the Elven scouts hidden in the treetops.

Tauriel waited until the Dwarves were well out of earshot before turning to her veteran scout. "Túrinor, bring word to the King of what we have seen here. Tell him that the Dwarves are few in number and poorly armed. I do not think this looks like the advance guard for an army."

"Agreed," he nodded.

Tauriel paused, chewing on her lower lip. "Perhaps I should send the trainee back with you."

"I can help," Cirdolas protested, looking wounded. Tauriel sighed and shook her head at him. Cirdolas settled back in place with a sulky noise.

"I would travel faster on my own," Túrinor said. It was a good point, as he was well-known to be among the fastest scouts at running the forest.

"Very well," Tauriel said. "We will continue to shadow the Dwarves. I will leave trail markers to follow from here, although truthfully I do not think they will get many more miles into the forest in their condition."

He nodded, pressing his hand to his chest in a gesture of farewell. "Yes, _Minui_. It will probably take about a day for me to make the journey and return with reinforcements."

"Understood. If you should happen to see Prince Legolas," Tauriel said before thinking the sentence through.

"Yes?" Túrinor prompted when she paused.

"Tell him that I send my regards." It was a tepid message to send to him, but it was as personal as Tauriel could safely get with Cirdolas obviously listening in.

Túrinor nodded, then swung himself to the ground and disappeared into the trees in the direction of the fortress.

"Why are we wasting our time on this?" Cirdolas grumbled. "We should pick them off from the trees one by one and have done with it."

Tauriel took a deep breath and silently prayed to Vána, the Lady of Flowers, for patience. "Because they are not giant spiders, wargs, or orcs. Dwarves are also children of the Valar and thus do not deserve to be shot on sight simply for trespassing."

Cirdolas frowned stubbornly, looking unconvinced. Tauriel gritted her teeth. "Trainee, swear to me that you will not shoot any of these Dwarves unless I order you to do so."

"But what if they attack me?" Cirdolas asked, clearly looking for loopholes.

"If they attack you _first_ , then you are allowed to defend yourself."

"But what if the king orders me to shoot them?"

"Then of course you must obey your king." Tauriel could feel a headache blooming behind her eyes. This was why she didn't normally take on trainees, but Cirdolas was the son of the King's Steward and refusing him would have been politically awkward. Damn politics, anyway.

"Trainee," she said, "swear to me that you will not loose arrows against these Dwarves unless ordered to by me or the King, or in self-defense against an attack."

Cirdolas looked like he'd won an argument somehow as he dutifully repeated the oath. Tauriel eyed him suspiciously. But at least she had his promise not to shoot random Dwarves from the trees, so with that she let the argument drop.

The hours passed slowly as they paced the band of Dwarves from high above. By the time the Dwarves made a meager camp for the night, Tauriel was bored, not to mention sick of putting up with Cirdolas' moodiness. Once they had made a small nest high in the trees for sleeping, Tauriel ordered him to stay there and wait for her return. "I'm going to scout closer on the ground and see if I can find out what they're doing in the forest."

Cirdolas looked alarmed. "Is that safe? What if they see you?"

Tauriel grinned at the worried-looking trainee scout. "Dwarves? Spot _me_ when I'm hiding? Don't make me laugh."

***

As sling-stones rained down on the Dwarven camp, Tauriel smothered an incredulous laugh. "Unbelievable. The little idiot found a loophole."

"Who found a what?" Kíli yelled over the shouts of the Dwarf encampment waking up.

"Long story. Help me up."

Kíli and Tauriel attempting to stand up while tied at the wrists would have been a cause for hysterical laughter, had anyone near them not been too busy swearing and grabbing for weapons to pay them any attention. After nearly falling over twice, they managed to stand.

"One of yours?" Kíli demanded as he tugged her toward better cover. The rain of stones appeared to be concentrated on him, smacking into his chest and shoulders but missing her entirely. Tauriel would have felt proud of Cirdolas' aim if she hadn't been feeling so deeply annoyed with him.

"To my great disappointment, yes. Wait," Tauriel said, holding fast against his tugging hands. "Let me try talking him down." When Kíli stopped, nodding, she awkwardly raised her hands (along with one of his) to cup her hands around her mouth in order to amplify her voice.

"Cirdolas! _Daro_!" The word was an imperative order to stop, something so well-drilled into a scout's mind that they would freeze before even consciously realizing they'd heard the word.

The barrage of sling-stones stopped abruptly. After a moment, Cirdolas' young voice called anxiously from the branches above them, " _Minui_?"

Tauriel switched to Westron, aware that the Dwarves were staring suspiciously at her. "Come down out of the trees before you end up getting skewered, trainee. Drop down your weapons first," she said, afraid that the Dwarves would overreact if they saw him armed.

"Yes, _Minui_ ," Cirdolas called, sounding abashed. His sling dropped to the ground, followed by his bow and belt-knife, then Cirdolas swung down out of the trees and landed lightly on the ground. Nori retrieved the weapons and Bifur grabbed Cirdolas by the back of the neck, oddly like a mama cat with a kitten.

Tauriel, tugging Kíli behind her, placed herself squarely between Cirdolas and the furious figure of Thorin storming across the clearing towards them, sword in hand. Kíli stood shoulder to shoulder with her, their bound hands held awkwardly in front of them.

Around them, the Dwarves who had been asleep during Tauriel's arrival were getting caught up on what exactly was going on and who the newcomers were.

"So then ginger Elves start dropping from the trees!" Bofur was telling two older Dwarves with grey hair.

"Only one of them dropped from the trees," Nori said. "Kíli and Fíli caught the other one."

An older Dwarf with a luxuriant mane of red hair gestured angrily at Bofur. "What do you mean, ginger? Are you insulting red-heads?"

"No, I... oh look, here comes Thorin," Bofur said quickly.

"I see that you lied when you said there were no other scouts in this part of the forest," Thorin said icily. The tattooed Dwarf loomed behind him, war-axe in either hand. The white-haired Dwarf puffed to a stop beside Thorin, looking grim.

Tauriel eyed Thorin's bared sword, a fine and very intimidating piece of weaponry, and swallowed hard. "I did not lie, though I may have shaved the truth a bit close."

Thorin frowned thunderously. "Why I would expect honesty from one of your kind--"

"Would you please listen to me!" Trying to keep her voice calm, Tauriel explained, "Cirdolas is a trainee, not a scout, and little more than a child in the eyes of my people. Any consequences for his actions should rightly fall on me."

"I am not a child!" Cirdolas protested. She could have hugged him for making her point so well.

The tattooed Dwarf rumbled, "Two hostages would give us more leverage with Thranduil's Elves."

"If we run into Thranduil's Elves at all," the white-haired Dwarf said. "Let's not go borrowing trouble."

"Trouble will come to us whether we wish it or no," Thorin said, sheathing his sword. "Dwalin is right. Two prisoners will give us more to bargain with."

"He is a child, not a bargaining chip," Tauriel fumed. She felt Kíli turn his hand to squeeze one of hers tightly, probably as a warning to stop arguing with Thorin.

Thorin shook his head dismissively, not bothering to respond. Already turning away, he ordered, "Bind the prisoner. Dwalin, you have first watch. We'll move on at dawn."

"Come on then, lad," Bofur said, taking Cirdolas' elbow gently but firmly. The young Elf tried to tug his arm away but subsided sulkily after Tauriel hissed at him.

"Trainee, what were you thinking?" Tauriel demanded as they walked back across the clearing towards the jumble of cloaks and miscellaneous items that had been tossed aside in the chaos. She noticed that Bilbo had joined them at some point. Odd, she must have missed noticing him earlier.

Cirdolas started to reply in Sindarin. Nori interrupted, "In Westron, if you please."

Tauriel nodded to Cirdolas. It made sense that the Dwarves would not want them potentially making plans in a language they couldn't understand.

Flushing, Cirdolas glared at Nori and then muttered sulkily in Westron, "I know you said to wait for you, _Minui_ , but you were gone for so long and I went looking for you, and you were tied up and that Dwarf was going to _dishonor_ you!"

Kíli made a choking noise. Tauriel closed her eyes, hoping to disappear. "By the Valar..."

"So, you two were getting up to some dishonoring together under that cloak, were you?" Bofur asked, suspiciously brightly.

"No!" Tauriel and Kíli said simultaneously. Feeling her ear-tips turn bright red, Tauriel explained, "Kíli offered to share his cloak for warmth. There was no... dishonoring going on."

"None whatsoever," Kíli agreed quickly.

Fíli muttered something under his breath in the Dwarven tongue. Something rude, judging by the way Kíli attempted to kick him in the rear as he walked by.

"Let's all get some rest. Bifur and I will keep an eye on the lad," Bofur said. Cirdolas tried to jerk away from Bofur's hand, growling.

"Trainee!" Tauriel snapped. " _Daro_. Behave yourself or we will be having words." Cirdolas subsided unhappily and was led away by Bofur.

This time when they lay down on the ground and Kíli spread his cloak over them, there was no expectant hush or rising tension simply because they were too exhausted to keep their eyes open anymore.

***

Tauriel woke up to the sounds of a camp beginning to stir around her, unmistakable to her ears after so many years in the Forest Guard. She yawned widely and tried to rub her eyes, but her hands wouldn't move. Tauriel's eyes flew open and suddenly she remembered where she was and what had happened the day before.

Kíli and Tauriel had gone to sleep face-to-face with their bound wrists between them, but they must have shifted during the night. Now Tauriel was lying with her back pressed up against Kíli's front, his free arm tucked under her head like a pillow and his other arm slung over her side with their bound hands pressed against her chest. She had no idea how they had managed to end up in this position without waking, or how to extricate herself from it now without undue awkwardness. It did not help that she was incredibly comfortable and didn't actually want to move at all.

She was certain that Kíli was still asleep. His breathing was deep and even and the arm slung over her side was completely limp.

"Good morning," a cheerful voice said. Bilbo, the Hobbit, was standing near them nibbling on a piece of lembas bread.

"Ah... good morning," Tauriel said.

"It's a lovely day. For Mirkwood, anyway. It's not completely muggy and there's almost a breeze."

"It's because it's early autumn," Tauriel said. "It tends to cool off and then get awfully hot again for a ten-day or so this time of year."

"So there are times when it's less miserable? Well, anyhow, I'd say you have about five minutes to get moving before Thorin comes over here and sees the two of you. Just so you know," he shrugged.

"I thank you for the warning," Tauriel said. Truly, she appreciated it, because with the mood the Dwarf king had been in last night she'd be lucky to escape beheading if he saw his nephew embracing her like this.

The Hobbit nodded and wandered away, munching happily. They appeared to be mostly blocked from view from the rest of the camp by Bofur, Nori, and Fíli, who had all very casually happened to sit right in front of them.

"Kíli," Tauriel said. No response. "Kíli," she said louder, punctuating it with a shake of their bound hands.

There was a snort, a mumble, and the feeling of Kíli's body stirring against hers. "Oh. Good morning," he said huskily.

"It's not going to remain a good morning if your uncle sees us like this. Let go so we can get up." Past the three Dwarves sitting in front of them, she caught a glimpse of Ori talking to Cirdolas, who actually appeared through some miracle to be listening to him politely.

Kíli grumbled and pulled her closer toward him. "Don't wanna," he whined, snuffling her hair. Tauriel tried her best to ignore the feelings in the pit of her stomach caused by the warmth of his body around her and the scratch of his beard against her hair.

Fíli snorted. "You still sound like you're about thirty when you do that," he said without turning around. "Better get moving, there's only so much longer Bombur can stall Uncle."

"Or you can stay where you are," Nori said. "I've got money on what Thorin's reaction is going to be when he figures out there's hanky-panky going on."

Tauriel growled in frustration. "Oh, for the love of Vána, there is no "hanky-panky"--"

Then three things happened almost at once. Tauriel turned her head toward Kíli, the relatively innocent nuzzling he had been giving to her hair resulted in him accidentally kissing the tip of her ear, and Tauriel jumped away from him like a startled cat.

Eyes wide, they stared at each other.

Tauriel sputtered, "Why would you--that--in _public_!"

"What? I don't--"

"--not that kind of Elf--"

"--all I did was kiss your ear!"

" _All_ you did!" Tauriel repeated, baffled at how he could say that so dismissively. There were children present! Well, Ori and Cirdolas, but they pretty much counted as children. The kissing of ears was something that happened between lovers in their bedroom, or in secret under the moonlight, not in broad daylight in the middle of a camp. "You Dwarves actually are barbarians, aren't you?"

Kíli's mouth dropped open. "What? I didn't grope you or anything!"

Tauriel was actually so angry she was speechless.

The other Dwarves had completely given up on pretending they weren't listening in. "Just apologize. Doesn't matter if you don't know what you've done," Bofur said. "Also, likely a gift of some sort wouldn't go amiss."

"Side bet?" Nori asked Fíli, who nodded and passed him a few coins.

Bilbo trotted over to them, looking alarmed. "Get moving! Thorin's on his way."

***

Tauriel wasn't entirely sure if she was happy that the marching order had been arranged so that she and Cirdolas were at the center of the line of Dwarves and Kíli was scouting in the lead with his brother. On the one hand, she didn't have to deal with facing Kíli after the intensely embarrassing scene earlier that morning. On the other hand, she... no, she didn't miss his dark eyes and quick grin at all. Ridiculous.

As the morning wore on, she grew too hot and aggravated to dwell on it much. Elven scouts moved in short bursts of movement, switching easily between running the forest floor and making their way through the treetops. Marching the way the Dwarves did, slowly and without pause on the ground, was awful.

Tauriel's hands were still bound, though they had at least untied her enough to let her take care of her personal business before setting out. Now she and Cirdolas were both attached to the same length of rope, tied around their wrists with a lead held by a Dwarf. At first Gloin, the older red-headed Dwarf, had been assigned to hold onto the rope. He'd spent a few hours staring at them suspiciously and refusing to speak to them. At the first opportunity he'd passed the rope off to Bofur.

Bofur threw the end of the rope jauntily over his shoulder and then walked next to Tauriel and Cirdolas, casually telling stories. Ori had gravitated toward them despite the disapproval of the fussy little Dwarf who appeared to be his guardian.

"Wargs though, those things are nasty buggers." Bofur shuddered dramatically. "If one of 'em gets their jaws locked on something, then they won't let it go even if they're killed. You have to cut their jaws open to make them let go of it."

That wasn't actually true, of course, but Ori and Cirdolas looked so fascinated by the story that Tauriel didn't have the heart to disagree with him.

Eventually, word was passed down the line that they were to take a break. The Dwarves sat down on the path, sighing with relief and shrugging out of their packs. Bilbo sat down next to Tauriel and Cirdolas, pulling an almost flat waterskin out of his pack and passing it to her. "Careful, we're almost out of water. Just take a sip."

Cirdolas stared at the Hobbit with his brow wrinkled in confusion. "That's stupid. There's pitcher ferns everywhere, how can you be out of water?"

Tauriel sighed. "What Cirdolas meant to say was, it's unfortunate that you're out of water because you probably don't know what a pitcher fern is, because you've never been in Mirkwood before. Right, trainee?"

Cirdolas pouted, digging the heel of one boot into the dirt. "Yes, _Minui_."

"There are ferns with water in them?" Bilbo asked.

"It's not the tastiest water, and you might have to filter some dirt and dead insects out first," Tauriel said. "But yes, there's a variety of fern that stores water in its core."

"It's water," Bofur said, springing to his feet. "If it's not going to kill me or make me sleep for a week, I don't care what it tastes like. Where can I find these ferns?"

"Right over there," Cirdolas pointed, his tone still suggesting that the Dwarves were idiots for not knowing. "They're the tall ones with the purple stems. You just cut a little hole at the bottom of the stem and the water comes out."

Bofur drafted Bilbo and a few of the other Dwarves to give him a hand. He almost forgot to hand off the rope before walking away, dropping it in Ori's hand with an absent-minded pat to his shoulder.

"You know a lot about the forest, don't you?" Ori asked Cirdolas, sounding a little awed. "Could you share your knowledge? I'm writing a record of our journey."

"Yes, I do know a fair amount," Cirdolas said, sounding pleased by the flattery. The two of them were soon sitting close together with a book balanced on their knees, a head of silky, pale red Elf hair bent next to one of coarse, reddish-brown Dwarf hair.

Was it just yesterday that Tauriel had been forced to lecture Cirdolas on why one couldn't simply shoot Dwarves for trespassing? Truly, the young were amazing.

She was worried, though. At some point that day, Túrinor and an unknown number of Elf warriors were going to catch up with them. As much as she did not care for the experience of being a prisoner, she'd grown... fond, she supposed, of the Dwarves. She could see one possible way for this to end peacefully, and several ways for this to end in death--hers, Cirdolas', or the Dwarves.

Bofur yelled, "Lads, there's water in these weird little sticks!"

"And it tastes like Bofur's feet smell!" one of the other Dwarves, maybe Nori, added.

As excited chatter about water, mixed liberally with insults about personal cleanliness and rumored fondness for farm animals, broke out amongst the Dwarves, Tauriel bowed her head and tried to believe in a hopeful future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> Minui - First. In this context, refers to Tauriel's rank of First Scout and Captain of the Forest Guard.  
> Daro - Stop!  
> Vána - A member of the Valar. The Lady of Flowers; married to Oromë.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a few adjustments to the story Tauriel tells of the history of the Silvan Elves from the version recorded in the _Silmarillion_ , figuring that the Silvan Elves would have their own oral history which might not match up to the "official" one. Also, Legolas is the only canon child of Thranduil, but as it seems unlikely that he would send his only heir on potentially dangerous missions I have given Legolas an older brother.

After that brief break, they marched for several more hours in the heat and humidity of Mirkwood in early autumn. By the time they finally made camp at dusk, Tauriel wanted in no particular order: a cold bath, a change of clothes, and a nap high in the treetops where one could actually catch a breeze in this weather.

Cirdolas looked similarly bedraggled, though she was very proud of him for not complaining. She thought he would make a fine scout after all. He was just so very young and foolish... but also very brave, to have leaped to her defense against a full dozen Dwarves. She could admit now that she had judged him too harshly from the beginning, through no fault of his own.

They sat down on the path as the Dwarves went about distributing what little food they had left. Tauriel leaned her head close to his and whispered in Sindarin, "I believe it will happen tonight. Stay brave and stick close to me." She felt Cirdolas nod.

In a normal tone, she added in Westron, "You have shown honor and bravery, Cirdolas, son of the Beech Tree clan. I would be proud to formally take you on as my apprentice."

She gave him the privacy of not looking at him directly, but she could see Cirdolas' elated grin out of the corner of her eye. Cirdolas sounded a little choked up as he replied, "I accept this honor and I will do my utmost to prove your faith in me is well deserved."

"Yes, I believe that you will," Tauriel said, smiling at him. _As long as we both survive this_ , she didn't say.

She was hoping that the Elves sent to intercept them would be led by Túrinor or another of her loyal veteran scouts. But if King Thranduil decided this needed royal oversight, she was almost certain he would send Prince Legolas. Thranduil would never send his heir, Prince Ellothind, anywhere near a mission that could be potentially dangerous. And she couldn't think of the last time the King had left his fortress for anything but the Great Hunt. Legolas was hot-headed but honorable, and a good friend. She was fairly sure that she could convince him to deal with the Dwarves without violence.

"Got some food and water for ya," Bofur said, juggling a newly refilled waterskin and a small handful of dried meat. "The meat tastes like shoe leather and the water tastes like feet, so I guess it's sort of a theme." He paused and frowned at their bound hands. "Listen, I'm just gonna untie you so so you can have your supper. It's not like you'd get very far with all of us awake and surrounding you."

"I thank you for your kindness," Tauriel said. Once he had untied their hands, she stretched her arms up above her head and felt her shoulders loosen, sighing with relief.

Around them, Tauriel could see the Dwarves settling down into their little family groups. She had finally picked up on all of their names and was starting to get used to the rhythms of the Dwarven camp.

Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin seemed to always gravitate together on the far side of camp from the Elves, which was just fine with Tauriel since Dwalin scared the shit out of her and Thorin wasn't really any less intimidating. The two unfriendly older Dwarves, Oin and Gloin, appeared to be the official fire-starters and to mostly spend their time together. Dori would fuss over Ori until the younger Dwarf managed to escape his mothering, while Nori was a slightly removed but ever-watchful presence.

Bombur seemed deeply despondent and immediately lay down to sleep as soon as they stopped. Bofur had told her that his brother had slipped into the enchanted river and now spent all of his time trying to recapture the dreams he had while in magical sleep. Unfortunately, the only cure she knew of for that was time. Bifur seemed friendly, though the axe _embedded in his skull_ was horrifying, but he did not appear to speak Westron at all. Bofur was always friendly and helpful, full of completely improbable stories, and honestly was probably her favorite of the Dwarves.

Well. Other than Kíli, for... well, for obvious reasons. (Fíli seemed friendly too, but so far their interactions had mostly consisted of him looking eternally amused and teasing his brother. About her.)

Bofur hadn't been exaggerating about the flavor of the meat and water, but after a long day of marching she found that she really didn't care that much. Cirdolas made a series of hilariously disgusted-looking faces at the meat, but as soon as he caught her eyes on him he dutifully started nibbling on a chunk.

After they were finished with dinner, such as it was, Tauriel pulled the sweat-soaked tendrils of her hair away from her face and neck, grimacing. "Ugh, I feel revolting."

"Might this one be of service to you?" Cirdolas asked, pulling an ivory comb out of a belt pouch and holding it up with a hopeful smile. Caring for gear, weapons, and grooming was all part of an apprentice's duty. Clearly Cirdolas did not want to delay even a minute on taking on the official duties of an apprentice.

Tauriel tried not to show her amusement at his use of the formal phrasing, not wanting him to think she was laughing at him. "Your service would be most welcome," she replied gravely.

Cirdolas moved to sit behind her and she tilted her head back so that he could comb through her hair more easily.

"Excuse me," she heard. Bilbo stood next to them, tugging at the hem of his coat. He cleared his throat and asked, "Is this a bad time for me to ask for that conversation about Silvan Elves?"

Tauriel smiled up at the little Hobbit. "We have nothing but time at the moment. What do you want to know?" The feel of Cirdolas' hands moving through her hair was relaxing, even as he tugged gently at the snarls that had formed near the ends.

Bilbo sat down on the ground next to them. "What is the difference between Silvan and Sindar Elves?" he asked.

Tauriel hummed to herself, thinking of how to tell the story. "Long ago when the world was new, Ilúvatar awoke the first Elves in a land far to the East. After a time without number, the Elves were summoned to travel to the West and join the Valar in Valinor. Some Elves refused the call, and they are known as the Unwilling. But most of the three great tribes of the Elves answered the summons and traveled for a long, long time, until they reached the Great Forest."

"Mirkwood?" Ori asked. Tauriel hadn't noticed him joining them, though she really should have expected it since Ori seemed newly inseparable from Cirdolas.

"Mirkwood as it is called now," Tauriel said. "But in those days it was Greenwood the Great, the most beautiful forest in all of Middle Earth." She felt Cirdolas separating the strands of her hair out to form woven plaits around the crown of her head. Fancier than her usual utilitarian braid style, which she had chosen mainly because it was easy to put her hair in the braids without access to a mirror.

She saw that Kíli and Fíli had returned from scouting and stopped to speak to Thorin. Tauriel looked away quickly before Kíli could catch her watching him, feeling suddenly shy.

"Really?" Bilbo asked skeptically. "I don't mean to insult your home, but--have you seen the evil squirrels? Really. Evil squirrels. Not to mention the giant spiders."

"No offense taken," Tauriel assured him, sighing. "The Greenwood was not always as it is now. There is a rot spreading in the heart of the forest. The days grow darker and the nights grow treacherous. I only wish you could see the forest as it once was."

She had often wondered if the darkness affecting the forest was not also affecting the forest's King. Thranduil had not always been as harsh and unyielding as he was now. The older Silvan Elves spoke of a time when he had been a kind, benevolent ruler. Though he was still respected as a strong ruler and warleader, he was feared as much as loved by the people.

Tauriel shook herself out of her dark thoughts, realizing that Bilbo and Ori were waiting for her to continue the story. "When they came to the Great Forest," she said, "the Elves stopped for a time to replenish their supplies before crossing the Misty Mountains. Two of the great tribes of the Elves decided to continue on. The third tribe, though, was divided. Most of them eventually decided to cross the mountains. But twelve mothers and twelve fathers of the third tribe decided that they would stay in the forest. They did not wish to leave this land that they had come to love. And so they became the founders of the twelve clans of the Silvan Elves."

Dropping out of her formal story-telling voice, she added, "And then the rest of the third tribe traveled to the lands by the Great Sea, where they became very wise and learned, and proud, and completely lost their sense of humor. And those are the Sindar Elves."

" _Minui_ , you should not say such things!" Cirdolas protested while Bilbo and Ori snorted with laughter.

"Relax, apprentice. I don't think I'm in any danger of being thrown in the dungeons," Tauriel said. She watched Kíli, who had finished talking to his uncle, walk toward them and felt her ear-tips go pink. Really, she was being ridiculous. He was just a Dwarf, even if he had flashing dark eyes and an infectious grin and large, strong hands... Tauriel cut that line of thinking off before it wandered any further.

"So, do all Silvan Elves have--" Bilbo gestured.

It took Tauriel a few moments to figure out that he was indicating their hair. She smothered a laugh. "Not all Silvan Elves have red hair, though many do."

"And well, erm. You seem to be a bit shorter than Elrond's folk," Bilbo said. 

She raised her eyebrows, amused at a Hobbit calling someone else short. "Perhaps a bit."

"I'm not short," Cirdolas said, sounding pouty. "I'm just not finished growing yet."

"Of course, apprentice. I'm certain you'll be as tall as Prince Legolas by the time you're done growing," Tauriel said. In truth, she doubted it; their people tended to be shorter than the Sindar in general.

"Prince who?" Bilbo asked, pushing his sweaty curls back from his face. He had the shortest hair she'd ever seen on an adult, and it seemed to get in his eyes constantly. She wondered at the purpose of keeping one's hair short. It didn't seem at all practical.

"Prince Legolas, second son of King Thranduil," Cirdolas said dreamily. "Both his beauty and his skill with a bow are unmatched. It's said that he can shoot a single wing feather from a falcon in the sky." It's likely that he would have gone on in that vein for quite some time (Cirdolas had an enormous and not at all well-hidden infatuation) if Kíli hadn't flopped down on the ground next to them, followed more sedately by his brother.

"A falcon? That's nothing. Can he kill a warg charging at full speed with a single arrow straight through its eye socket? I don't think so," Kíli said triumphantly.

Fíli coughed. "Actually, it wasn't through the eye socket, and if I'm remembering right it wasn't quite dead."

"There was another warg, later. You must have been distracted," Kíli told his brother, who just raised an eyebrow at him.

"If I had my bow," Tauriel said, "I'd show you real Elven archery." She wistfully eyed her bow where it was slung over Kíli's shoulder, underneath his bow made of dark wood.

"I would very much like to see that," Kíli said, staring at her intensely. She met his gaze for a few moments before looking away, blushing bright red from her cheeks to her ear-tips.

"I'll _bet_ you would," Fíli laughed.

Kíli punched him in the shoulder, not lightly, and they started wrestling on the ground, growling insults at each other. Alarmed, Tauriel looked to Bilbo.

"Oh, that's perfectly normal," the Hobbit assured her. "Dwarves often express affection through head-butting and punching each other."

Tauriel nodded slowly. "That seems... less than pleasant."

"It's frightfully alarming at first," Bilbo said cheerfully. "I thought Balin and Dwalin were going to try to murder each other in my front parlor. Can you imagine the mess!"

"Indeed," Tauriel said faintly. Fíli had wrestled Kíli into submission and was sitting on his back with Kíli's arm twisted behind him in a way that looked extremely painful. Kíli was still flailing with his free arm, trying to punch Fíli in his side.

"There, I'm done," Cirdolas said. He sighed. "This isn't nearly as nice as it would look if I had hair pins or clips."

"I'm sure it's lovely," Tauriel reassured him.

"So, are you two siblings or cousins?" Bilbo asked, smiling. "I'm betting cousins, am I right?"

Tauriel blinked at him. "No, Cirdolas is of _Brethilnoss_ , Beech Tree clan," she said. "And my clan is gone. We're not kin at all."

There was a sudden clatter near them. Tauriel looked up and realized that all of the nearby Dwarves were staring at them with looks that ranged from surprise to shock to utter horror on their faces. Dori grabbed Ori and hustled him away, muttering something about indecency. Fíli and Kíli had frozen in place, staring at her. Kíli looked terribly hurt and Fíli looked furious.

"...What did I say?" Tauriel asked.

***

After a terribly confusing conversation in which Bofur wouldn't look at her directly, Tauriel determined that the problem had something to do with Cirdolas braiding her hair.

Fíli was standing about ten feet away with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at her the whole time, while Kíli had disappeared to who knows where. The rest of the nearby Dwarves were either attempting to ignore the fact that Tauriel and Cirdolas existed, or engaged in unsubtle eavesdropping on the conversation. Mostly both.

"We assumed you were siblings, or close kin of some kind at any rate," Bofur said, fiddling with his hat and looking deeply uncomfortable.

"Yes, I understand that, but what on earth does that have to do with my hair?"

Bofur sputtered. "It's got everything to do with it! Listen, if you two are courting that's one thing, but you can't go braiding each other's hair in public. It's not decent."

"I don't see why that would be indecent," Tauriel said. "And why would you think that we were courting?"

"Well, you just said you weren't kin," Nori said. "Which is a pity, since I lost some coin on whether or not you two were siblings."

"And if you're toying with my little brother's affections..." Fíli said threateningly. He was normally so calm and quietly amused that Tauriel hadn't quite noticed exactly how burly and covered in weapons he was. Now she couldn't help but notice.

"For the love of--Cirdolas is my apprentice!" Tauriel snapped.

"Could--could I step in for a moment?" Bilbo asked. When no one objected, he said, "Now, I'm an outsider to both of your peoples, so forgive me if my questions seem simple. Master Dwarves, in your culture braiding the hair of someone who is not your kin is a sign of courting?"

"Yes, and it should be done _in private_!" Dori called from where his outrage had apparently stopped him just within hearing range of the conversation.

"Understood." Bilbo nodded, smiling. "And in your culture, Mistress Elf, hair braiding does not have the same meaning?"

"No, it's just..." Tauriel gestured a little helplessly. "It's a gesture of friendship, or honoring the other person. Cirdolas is my apprentice, so it's entirely proper."

"Well then," Bilbo said, clapping his hands together briskly. "I think we have this misunderstanding all cleared up."

The Dwarves looked deeply skeptical, muttering to each other.

"Listen, I promise that Cirdolas will not touch my hair in any way while we are traveling with you. Is that acceptable?" Tauriel asked, spreading her hands.

"As long as you act like decent people, that is acceptable," Dori said. "But I don't want Ori exposed to any more of your... foreign nonsense. Good day." Tauriel could hear Ori whining as Dori shepherded him to the other side of camp.

Drama over for now, the Dwarves settled back down. She noticed that the commotion had been very helpful in one way: no one had remembered to tie their hands again.

Sighing and rubbing a hand across her face, Tauriel sat next to Cirdolas. "All that over hair," she said. Cirdolas didn't say anything and when she looked over she saw that he looked upset. "Apprentice, what's the matter?" she asked.

"I didn't mean to cause any trouble," he muttered, bowing his head so that his hair hid part of his face.

"You didn't do anything wrong. It was just a misunderstanding, all right?"

Cirdolas nodded sulkily and curled up on his side, tugging his cloak over him as a blanket with his back turned to her. Tauriel sighed again. This, _this_ was why she had not wanted to take on an apprentice.

After a few minutes, Kíli reappeared from wherever he'd disappeared to and sat down next to her. He slanted a glance at her from under his furrowed brows. "Fíli says you're not courting the little one?"

Tauriel sighed. "No. He's my apprentice. It would be like--listen, according to old Silvan tradition I wouldn't even be able to take him as my apprentice without adopting him into my clan first."

"So he's... like your sister-son," Kíli said after thinking about it for a few moments.

"I guess," she shrugged. She wasn't familiar with the term, but the meaning seemed clear enough.

"So you're not pledged to anyone, then," Kíli said very casually.

"No," Tauriel said, biting her lip to keep herself from smiling.

Kíli beamed, bright enough that it seemed like he was smiling with his whole body. A little embarrassed, Tauriel looked away and caught a glimpse of movement in the dark trees. Something that Kíli had said when they first met came back to her.

"Kíli? You mentioned that you fought giant spiders the day before yesterday."

"We did! I sent several of the foul beasties to their deaths personally."

That was definitely movement in the trees. And it did not look like Elves. Tauriel tensed. "By any chance, did any of them get away?"

"One or two may have," he shrugged. "Why?"

"Give me a weapon," she demanded. "My bow, a knife, just anything."

"What's wrong?" Kíli asked, suddenly alert. A few of the nearby Dwarves stirred, hearing the alarm in his voice.

She swallowed hard. "Mirkwood spiders hold grudges."

Tauriel heard Kíli shout out a warning in Dwarvish as the chittering, horrible horde poured out of the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> Minui - First  
> Brethilnoss - Beech Tree clan


	4. Chapter 4

Giant spiders poured from the trees as the sleeping Dwarves struggled to their feet and grabbed for their weapons.

"Catch!" Tauriel heard Kíli shout as he tossed her bow towards her. She felt better for holding her bow once more, but a bow without arrows was nothing more than a not particularly effective club. "Back to back," he yelled. Tauriel nodded in understanding, catching on to his plan.

Tauriel wasn't sure it would work at first, afraid that their hands would just get in each others' way as they both drew arrows from the quiver slung over his shoulder. But she stood back to back with him and they fell into a rhythm of shooting alternately. They fired arrow after arrow, picking their shots carefully, aiming for the giant spiders' vulnerable spots.

Around them, the Dwarves slaughtered their way through the spiders with deadly gusto, but the chittering horrors just kept coming.

Tauriel reached back for an arrow only to find that they were out of arrows. She switched to holding her bow like a club, waiting for a spider to get in range. She could feel Kíli shift as he drew his axes, still standing back-to-back with her.

"Take it!" Fíli shouted, tossing her one of his twin swords pommel-first. Surprised but grateful, Tauriel grabbed the body-warmed pommel of the sword with one hand. Fighting with a sword in his right hand and a long dagger in his left hand, Fíli stood back to back with Tauriel and Kíli in a circle of flashing blades.

She took a moment to sling her bow over her back and test the balance of his sword. Fíli's sword was a lot bigger and heavier than her usual thin blades, but Tauriel adapted quickly. She sliced through the hairy carapace of a nearby spider and then turned to finish one off as it lurched away from Kíli's axe.

The worst thing about Mirkwood spiders was that they worked together and strategized their attack. So she was horrified but not surprised when they overwhelmed the least warrior-like members of the party first, spinning Ori and Cirdolas up into white silk cocoons. Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur soon followed. Then the spiders suddenly changed tactics, going after the strongest warriors with concentrated waves of attacks.

At first Tauriel thought they might be able to win this after all. The remaining Dwarves hacked and stabbed their way through the spiders, thinning the arachnid horde. But it wasn't enough as Balin fell, a massive wave of spiders overcoming the old warrior.

She realized at that moment that they were in real trouble.

Tauriel scanned the clearing desperately. Nori and Dori were fighting their way over to Ori's cocoon with raw determination, but as she watched a spider got past Dori's guard and the Dwarf went down. Thorin and Dwalin were fighting back-to-back and seemed to be beating the spiders back. She'd lost track of Oin and Gloin in the melee and couldn't see them anywhere. 

Where was Bilbo? She could have sworn she'd heard him taunting the spiders a moment ago. 

The spiders were starting to concentrate on Thorin and Dwalin, trying to overwhelm them with sheer numbers. Thorin went down under a pile of spiders and Fíli and Kíli let out wordless screams of anguish.

"He's not dead!" Tauriel said urgently. "None of them are. We just have to get them out--"

She felt the pain then, sudden shooting pain in her left thigh, and cold spreading out from it. The world seemed to slow down as she fell, her eyesight going blurry and dark.

"No!" she heard Kíli shout as if from a great distance and then everything went silent.

***

Making her way back to consciousness was a slow and painful process. Her head ached abominably and her thigh felt burning hot and icy-cold all at the same time. Tauriel heard herself moan, only then realizing that she was awake.

It was completely, utterly dark and she couldn't move, bound tightly into a giant spider's cocoon. The shape of another person was pressed to her front from head to foot, long hair against her cheek and warm breath against her neck. Someone else had been bound up in the cocoon with her.

"Kíli?" Tauriel whispered. He had been next to her when she'd been bitten. Of course, so had his brother. "Fíli?" she ventured hesitantly. Oh, Lord and Lady, that would be awkward. She thought it was probably Kíli, though--throwing himself protectively over her unconscious body sounded like exactly the kind of stunt he would pull.

Whichever one of them it was, he didn't reply or stir. Still knocked out cold from the spider venom.

Tauriel found that with effort, she could move her right arm enough to wedge it between their bodies. She had no weapons but it was possible that the Dwarf would have a belt-knife or dagger still sheathed. She fumbled over thick cloth until she found the edge of his belt, slung low around his hips. Wincing, she found herself whispering an apology for taking liberties even though he wouldn't know of it or hear her apology.

"Mmmmh... Tauriel?" a scratchy voice murmured in her ear.

"Kíli?" she asked.

His words were slurred and slow. "We must stop meeting this way."

"Held captive by spiders? I agree." Tauriel breathed a sigh of relief, pressing the side of her head against his lightly. If he'd regained consciousness this quickly, it meant that he had only been given a small dose of the poison.

"Tied up together." He paused, seeming to lose his train of thought for a few moments, then continued, "I wouldn't object so much if it weren't for the danger."

"I'll keep that in mind." Tauriel started shifting her hand again, feeling around his belt for a sheath.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Trying to figure out if you have a belt-knife or dagger that we can use to cut our way out of this. Sorry for the, errr. The touching."

"Oh, no, please feel free to carry on," he said, sounding more alert and amused.

" _Rŷn_ ," she said, feeling the corners of her lips turn up in a smile despite herself. She reached a sheath on his belt, but determined quickly that it was empty. Sighing, she started sliding her hand back along his belt the other way.

"Why do I suspect you just said a naughty word in Elvish? Do they even have naughty words in Elvish?" His body was very warm against hers. She'd noticed the same thing the other morning when they woke up pressed together.

"Oh, please. We're soldiers, of course we curse sometimes. But all I called you was a hound, a chasing dog."

Kíli snorted with laughter. "A hound, eh? Well, it's true that I do have your scent."

"Ahh..." Tauriel had no retort ready for that one. She felt her ears and cheeks go bright red. Fumbling, she reached his belt buckle and held her breath as she slid her hand past it to the right, trying not to think about the fact that she was basically groping him. 

She felt him take a deep breath and slowly let it out. His voice had become noticeably lower when he said, "After we get out of this, you will have to teach me naughty words in Elvish."

"I don't think your uncle would approve." She was trying not to let this affect her, she really was, but the huskiness in her own voice gave her away.

"I care nothing at all for what my uncle thinks about you and me."

Tauriel froze. "Those are dangerous words," she said finally. Slowly, she started moving her hand along his belt again. 

"I know. And I stand by them." All joking had fled from his voice.

"Kíli..." she breathed. "You don't even know me."

"I fell for you the moment you yelled at Fíli and me about taking care of your bow properly while I was holding you at arrow-point." She felt his head shift against hers and then he managed to twist enough to kiss her on the thin skin behind her ear.

"You can't..." She closed her eyes, even though it was scarcely darker than with her eyes open. "You cannot say such things." Fumbling blindly, she found a small dagger sheathed on his belt. Carefully, she managed to unsheathe it and position her hand so that she could cut into the spider cocoon.

"And why not?" he challenged, his lips brushing against her skin. Tauriel shivered.

"Because we are neither of us free," she said, fiercely sawing at the spider silk until it finally gave way. "Come on, I've got a hole cut, help me pull it open."

Kíli helped pull the hole wider as she cut more silk. "I'm not letting this go. We're going to talk about it," he said stubbornly.

"Fine," she snapped, sawing at the hole viciously until the silk ripped open and almost dumped them a good twenty feet to the forest floor below. They hung on to the edge of the cocoon and took stock of the situation.

They were hanging from a large, thick tree branch with several other spider cocoons hanging from it. The cocoons were white and nearly identical, but here and there a boot or a bit of cloth sticking out made the captive inside identifiable.

"Kíli!" Fíli cried from where he lay stomach-down on the branch above them. He had been sawing at the side of a cocoon next to theirs, Tauriel saw.

"Fee," Kíli breathed. "You are a sight for sore eyes, brother," he said as they scrambled up onto the branch.

"Kee," Fíli said, kneeling on the branch and grabbing his brother by the forearms. They headbutted each other resoundingly. If she hadn't already been told how violently Dwarves expressed affection, Tauriel would have been horrified.

The brothers grinned at each other for a few moments. Then Fíli nodded to Tauriel, saying, "My lady Elf."

"Your Highness," she replied. Two could play at that game.

Fíli smiled genuinely, crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. "Glad I am to see that you're not dead."

"You have my thanks?" Tauriel said, not meaning to make it sound like a question. Honestly, before this she'd have said that Fíli would have not cared a whit either way.

"Yes, yes, this is all very pleasant," Bilbo said, appearing by the trunk of the tree seemingly out of nowhere. Perhaps her eyes were still blurred from the spider poison, because she was certain she hadn't seen him climbing up the tree. "But we need to get everyone else free before the spiders come back."

Fíli tossed Kíli a knife and all four of them began sawing at the spider cocoons. They freed Bofur, Dori, Bifur, and Nori next. Bofur was in poor shape, barely able to cling to the branch, and Dori wasn't much better. Bifur seemed physically fine, but had a wild look in his eyes that seemed to make everyone feel a little nervous. 

Nori swung himself out of the spider cocoon and up to the branch, produced two extremely sharp, thin knives from hidden sheaths under his clothing, and immediately started working on getting Ori freed.

"Where are the spiders?" Tauriel asked Bilbo as they both worked on the largest cocoon, which had to be Bombur's based on the size and the bit of circular braid peeking out of the silk.

"I led them off through the forest. I'm afraid they'll be back soon, though."

"How did you--" But then it was too late to ask questions, for spiders had begun pouring into the clearing. 

Tauriel finished sawing through a thick twist of silk that had apparently been the last thing keeping Bombur in the cocoon, for he immediately fell to the forest floor below. Luckily, his fall was broken by landing on several spiders, whose carapaces cracked and sprayed their surroundings with ick.

Tauriel and Bilbo stared down for a moment in surprised horror, then simultaneously said, "Ugh."

"Stay up here," Bilbo said, drawing his sword. 

Tauriel didn't want to stay out of the fight, but she was armed only with a small knife and there were more Dwarves and her apprentice to be freed. Still, it was hard to hear the sounds of fighting below and be unable to go assist them.

Cirdolas was in the very last cocoon on her side of the branch, still unconscious. She pulled him up onto the branch and laid him out flat. Her chest clenched as she saw how pale he looked, but his breathing was steady and his heart, when she pressed her ear to his chest, sounded strong. "Thanks be to Vána," she whispered.

Glancing around, she saw that all the cocoons had now been opened. Nori had just finished freeing Dwalin and was exchanging a few quick words with him. 

Cirdolas was as safe as she could make him at the moment. Tucking Kíli's knife into her belt, Tauriel swung down to the ground using a strand of spider silk. The Dwarves on the ground were being pushed back by the spiders. Yelling, Tauriel drew her knife and stabbed a nearby spider in an eye and then had to duck as it lunged for her.

"Glad to see that you could join us!" Kíli called, grinning wildly.

"As if I'd miss out on such great sport," Tauriel replied, working her way across the clearing to where Kíli and Fíli fought side by side. 

"We left a few of them for you," Fíli said, tossing her his off-hand sword again. She switched the dagger to her left hand and then there was just the rhythm of the fight, the three of them standing back-to-back in a circle.

But for every spider that they sent to its death, another two appeared.

Bilbo appeared next to them, seemingly from nowhere. The Hobbit was impressively stealthy, Tauriel thought. "I'm going to lead them away again." 

"No!" Kíli said. "It's too dangerous, they'll catch you for sure."

"How exactly are you going to get them to follow you?" Tauriel asked.

The Hobbit smiled quickly. "Don't worry, they'll follow me. You just get everyone away from here."

"Be careful!" she shouted as he ran for the edge of the clearing.

Bilbo started singing loudly and off-key, some silly song about attercops and lazy cobs, as he ducked into the forest. Hissing and clacking, most of the spiders chased after him.

Oh, right, spiders hated being called attercops. Vain creatures.

***

They made short work of the few spiders left and then took stock of the situation quickly. Fíli and Kíli went back up into the tree, helping the last of the Dwarves down to solid ground while Tauriel helped Bombur to his feet. The round Dwarf was in rough shape. The spiders had been poking at him to judge his juiciness, and then he'd fallen from the tree branch. Fortunately, he was able to stand on his own. 

Cirdolas had regained consciousness at some point and climbed down out of the tree on his own. He lost his footing on the last few feet and would have fallen if Tauriel hadn't been there to catch him.

"Are you well, Cirdolas?" she asked.

" _Minui_ ," he said, teary-eyed, and then flung his arms around her neck, holding onto her and shaking.

"I..." She had no idea what to do with an armful of hysterical adolescent Elf. This had never happened to her before. Tentatively, Tauriel cradled the back of his head with one hand and stroked his back with her other hand, murmuring soothing nonsense.

It seemed to work, thank the Valar. Cirdolas took a deep, shuddering breath and eased back out of her arms while wiping his eyes. "I apologize for my loss of composure, _Minui_."

"It's quite alright, apprentice," she said, trying for a reassuring smile. 

While she'd been distracted, the rest of the Dwarves had gotten themselves together as best they could. Some of them were armed, but most had lost their weapons when they'd been cocooned.

"Where are we going?" Ori asked.

"Anywhere, as long as it's away from here, laddie," Balin said. There was a general murmur of agreement from the Dwarves.

Everyone who could walk on their own helped someone else walk and they staggered away from the clearing as fast as their weakened legs could take them. Tauriel helped Cirdolas, who was still shaky and groggy.

They walked for what felt like an hour, stumbling over branches and rocks. But they were too afraid that the spiders would catch up with them to stop.

"Hey!" Bofur said. "I think I see a light up ahead. There's torches!"

"Wait, no, don't go in there!" Tauriel called, but it was too late. 

The Dwarves were stumbling into another forest clearing, this one huge with seating made from fallen trees and bowers made of living ivy. There were dozens of torches burning in beautifully carved torchieres in a circle around the clearing. All the Dwarves who had rushed into the clearing took one step inside the circle of flaring torches and collapsed onto the ground, asleep.

Not all of the Dwarves had rushed headlong into danger, though. Fíli, Kíli, Nori, Dwalin, and Thorin were still outside of the enchanted circle. 

Thorin rounded on Tauriel, furious. "You walked us straight into a trap, Elf!"

"I tried to warn them," she protested. "I did not betray you," she said desperately to Fíli and Kíli. Fíli was frowning thunderously and Kíli looked hurt and betrayed.

"What's wrong with them?" Nori asked, thin blades suddenly appearing in his hands from hidden sheaths.

"They're just asleep, I swear," Tauriel said. "But we need to get out of here if we're not to share the same fate."

"We, Tauriel of _Eregnoss_? You count yourself an ally of these Dwarves?" a rich, resonant, and unfortunately familiar voice asked from behind them.

Tauriel winced, shutting her eyes as if that would make it go away. Taking a deep breath, she pasted a calm expression on her face and turned. "Your Majesty," she said, falling to one knee and bowing her head.

Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, stared at her with unreadable eyes for a moment then made a complex gesture with one hand.

Tauriel fell to the forest floor, unconscious, and knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> Rŷn - A chasing hound  
> Vána - A member of the Valar. The Lady of Flowers; married to Oromë.  
> Minui - First  
> Eregnoss - Holly-Tree Clan  
> Attercop - An extremely insulting name to call a giant spider.


	5. Chapter 5

It felt like she spent days floating in a formless, white haze, just under the surface of consciousness. Even after she opened her eyes and blinked up at a white, vaulted ceiling, she felt like her thoughts were swimming slowly through her mind.

"Tauriel," Legolas's familiar voice said from somewhere nearby.

Had they fallen asleep after talking into the wee hours of the night again? That didn't seem right, for some reason. Hadn't she been somewhere else just a moment ago, fighting giant spiders in the woods? With the Dwarves, she suddenly remembered. Where were they? Where was her apprentice?

She opened her eyes fully and attempted to sit up, but found that her body wouldn't cooperate.

"Easy there," Legolas said, leaning over her. "You're still recovering from the spell."

"The spell..." She put her hand to her aching temple. "Legolas, what happened? The last thing I remember is the King casting a sleeping spell on me in the forest." 

With Legolas's assistance, she managed to sit up and looked around the room, finding that she was in a room in the healing wing of the Palace.

"My father had his guards bring you and the Dwarves back to the Palace. The Dwarves have been imprisoned."

"Oh, no," Tauriel gasped, feeling a throb of pain through her temples. "Are they well? And what of my apprentice, Cirdolas?"

"He is fine, simply a bit shaken. What happened, Tauriel? My father is in a towering fury over this. What were you doing with them?"

"The Dwarves encountered me in the forest and took me prisoner--"

"Did they?" Legolas asked flatly, his eyes narrowing in anger.

"But it was all a misunderstanding," she hurried to assure him. "They're not here to harm anyone. They're just passing through."

"I don't think my father will agree."

"Surely if we were to talk to him and explain that they were simply lost, King Thranduil would have to listen."

Legolas frowned, looking doubtful. "He will be here momentarily. I sent a healer to alert him the moment you started to regain consciousness. My friend, have a care when you speak to him about the Dwarves. He is angrier than I've seen him in a very long time and he is not in the mood to listen to reason. We'll talk more later," he said in an undertone as the door to the room began to swing open.

Crowned in red and gold for autumn, King Thranduil swept into the sickroom. Two Royal Guards followed him in, clanking in their ridiculous golden armor. He dismissed them with a flick of his fingers.

"Your Majesty," she said, struggling to stand up. Her limbs still felt limp and uncooperative.

"You need not stand, Captain. You look like you're about to fall over as it is."

She finally managed to slide her legs over the side of the bed and carefully stood up, leaning heavily on the side of the bed. "Your Majesty, I would like to explain the circumstances under which I came to be in the Dwarves' company."

"Please do, Captain. I must admit to a sense of burning curiosity about that very thing." Thranduil clasped his hands behind his back, standing upright and regal in his silver coat. Tauriel felt very small and grubby compared to him. Legolas stood at a precisely equal distance to them, forming the point of a triangle.

Tauriel took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "I was called to that area of the forest by a scout who had spotted the intruders from a distance. I trailed them for some time, accompanied by my trainee. When I ventured closer on my own, I was taken by surprise and captured. My trainee later attempted--foolishly, perhaps, but very bravely--to rescue me and was in turn captured. However, the Dwarves treated us with perfect courtesy as captors. Their only desire was to continue on their journey across the forest unhindered." She left it at that, trying to heed Legolas's advice to not seem overly sympathetic to the Dwarves.

"Indeed." The King tilted his head, platinum hair spilling across his shoulder with the movement. "Did the Dwarves tell you why they journeyed across our lands?"

"No, Your Majesty. I thought perhaps they intended to visit the Dwarven kingdom in the Iron Hills."

His eyes narrowed. "Not that they meant to visit Erebor?"

"No, Sire. The dragon Smaug still slumbers under the Lonely Mountain, does it not? To visit the ruins of Erebor would surely be foolish at best, suicidal at worst."

Thranduil made a thoughtful noise. "Legolas, please go and oversee the guards who are looking through the Dwarves' effects. Make sure they do not miss anything."

"Me? But father--"

"Go." Father and son locked pale blue gazes for a long moment. Legolas nodded his assent and departed after one last look at Tauriel. Thranduil turned back to face her after his son had left, watching her so closely that she shifted uncomfortably.

"Tauriel, you have been a fine Captain of the Forest Guard and a boon companion to my son for many years. I say this so that you understand why I am being so forbearing with you."

"I thank you most humbly for your generosity, Your Majesty." She managed a bow, though she still felt shaky and off-balance and immediately had to hang on to the edge of the bed to regain her equilibrium. She was unsure how much of that could be attributed to the sleeping spell, and how much was the lingering effects of the spider poison.

"Do you know why I dislike Dwarves, Captain?" Thranduil walked over to a table to the side of the room covered in bottles and jars of unguents and started examining them idly.

"No, sire." She had to admit that she was curious to hear his reasoning.

"It is not simply because they are rude and greedy, though they are both of those things. It is because they recklessly amassed such excessive wealth that they attracted a Dragon of the North, endangering the entire region. The Men who died that day in Dale were allies to both Erebor and our throne. The Dwarves betrayed that alliance when they brought the Dragon down on them."

Tauriel could think of several holes in that argument, but she kept silent as Legolas had advised.

"And now this company of Dwarves--led by King Thrór's grandson--appears in the middle of our forest. He means to disturb the Dragon from its slumber, I am sure of it. How he intends to do it when the doors have been sealed shut... that I do not know. It troubles me that I lack this knowledge. Knowledge is power; the lack of knowledge is a point of vulnerability." Thranduil turned to face her, a cold smile raising the corners of his mouth. "That is where you come in."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. You have already ingratiated yourself with the Dwarves by befriending the dark one with the bow. He was furious when I cast that little sleeping spell on you. It took three of my guards to subdue him."

Kíli had fought the Royal Guards for her? She tried desperately to keep her face blank, as if that news left her utterly unaffected, rather than terrified on his behalf.

"The Dwarf seemed to believe that I intended to do you some harm." Thranduil's eyes narrowed with cold amusement. "I did not say anything to contradict that impression."

Oh, by the Lord and Lady, Kíli must be frantic by now! "May I ask for what reason, Your Majesty?"

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "I would think that the reason would be obvious by now. Perhaps you're not quite as bright as I had thought. Your orders are to worm your way further into the Dwarves' confidence, find out what their plan is to enter Erebor, and report back to me."

"How shall I do that, Sire?" She had a sinking feeling that she already knew what he had in mind.

"As a fellow prisoner, naturally." The King swept towards the door, pausing just before leaving to turn and say, "Succeed in this task and you will regain your freedom. Fail, and you will never again see the light of day."

Tauriel swallowed hard. There was really only one thing she could say. "Yes, Your Majesty."

***

Tauriel had stood in the Throne Room many times before, but never like this. Never as a prisoner.

She had stripped down to her green under tunic and breeches as Thranduil had instructed her, leaving her armor, surcoat, and boots in a neat pile on the bed. She hoped that someone would take her belongings to the room which she still kept in the Palace despite how rarely she visited. Then she waited for them to come for her. And waited.

At last, a pair of Royal Guards she wasn't familiar with came and led her to the Throne Room. At least they did not do her the indignity of binding her hands, though walking up the winding stone bridge in bare feet and her undertunic felt undignified enough. 

The Dwarves had already been brought in, she saw, clustered together in a group surrounded by Royal Guards with Thorin at the head of the group. She did not see Bilbo. She wondered if the little Hobbit had avoided capture. She had noticed that he was very good at hiding. The guards led her to stand about fifteen feet away from the Dwarves, in front of the antlered throne. 

Fíli saw her first and elbowed his brother to get his attention. Kíli's dark head jerked to the side and his eyes widened as he saw her. She could read the happiness in his eyes and saw the exact moment when he registered that she was standing flanked by two guards. She shrugged helplessly at him and looked away to scan the rest of the room.

There were stepped areas to either side of the Throne Room where spectators could stand and watch King Thranduil hold court. They were filled to overflowing today. She caught a glimpse of the Steward standing at the front of the crowd, as befit his station. Her apprentice Cirdolas stood beside his father looking heartbroken.

Prince Legolas stood to the lower right hand of the throne. His face was completely composed but she knew him well enough to read the tension in his shoulders as anger. Tauriel wondered if his father had told him the plan, or if this was taking Legolas completely by surprise.

Though King Thranduil entered the room without any fanfare, everyone present turned to face him like flowers courting the sun. He swept down one of the winding stone bridges which led from an upper area of the Palace, resplendent in a silver cloak. 

She felt the familiar, uneasy mix of awe and resentment as Thranduil slipped the cloak from his shoulders, allowing it to fall carelessly across the antlered throne before sitting down. The lining of the cloak was the color of fallen leaves, perfectly framing his silver coat and platinum hair. His face was utterly composed, cool and remote, as he called for Thorin to be brought before him.

She listened to the verbal feinting between Thorin and Thranduil with half an ear, more concerned with meeting Kíli's eyes and trying to send reassurance to him through her expression. Scowling thunderously, he seemed on the verge of bodily leaping at their guards. She caught Fíli's eyes and widened hers meaningfully, glancing at Kíli to try to get the message through that his brother was about to do something very stupid.

Fíli shifted closer to Kíli, saying something to him in a low voice. The building tension drained out of Kíli's frame. Tauriel sighed in relief. This was going to be difficult enough without Kíli losing his temper.

Her eyes jerked back towards the dais at the sound of raised voices. Thorin seemed to be holding onto his own temper by a thread as the King waved his hand, saying in a bored voice, "Then you may rot in the dungeons until you're prepared to be reasonable, though that take a hundred years."

"On what grounds?" Thorin demanded.

"On the grounds that you were trespassing. Or do you deny that you were found sneaking through the forest near the heart of our realm?"

There was no way that Thorin could deny that. Glowering, he stomped back to rejoin the group of Dwarves.

Thranduil raised a languid hand, beckoning. "Tauriel of _Eregnoss_ , First Scout and Captain of the Forest Guard, step forth."

The Dwarves muttered among themselves, looking surprised. She had never actually told them that she was Captain of the Forest Guard. She refused to feel any guilt about that--she had been a prisoner, after all. "Your Majesty," she said, dropping to one knee in front of the throne with her head bowed.

"You were found assisting this company of Dwarves to avoid capture by our Royal Guards. Can you explain your actions, Captain?"

She felt herself flinch as the King's voice snapped through the Throne Room like a whip. She raised her head to respond but remained kneeling, craning her neck to meet the King's gaze. "No, Your Majesty. I cannot deny that I attempted to help the Dwarves avoid capture. However, on your mercy I would point out that they were doing no harm, simply attempting to cross the forest."

"So you admit that you aided them in their trespass upon our lands."

She bowed her head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Tauriel of _Eregnoss_ , you are hereby stripped of your rank and title. In addition to this, you will be imprisoned under the Palace for a period of no less than twenty turns of the seasons."

Twenty years! She heard a few quiet sounds of protest from around the Throne Room but no one dared to object openly--except for Prince Legolas.

"Father, may I have a word?" Legolas asked as Tauriel climbed wearily to her feet. As the Royal Guards led her back, she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation but they were speaking too quietly for her to understand their words.

The Dwarves were all staring at her. She avoided Kíli's eyes, turning her face away as she walked in their direction. Even though she had agreed to this plan with the King she still felt ashamed at the loss of her rank and her place as Captain of the Forest Guard. 

Her eyes sought out Cirdolas in the crowd. Her apprentice was trying to keep his composure despite the tears rolling down his cheeks. She tried to smile at him reassuringly, but she was fairly sure she had failed to comfort him at all. Poor Cirdolas. She hoped that his father's status would help to protect her apprentice from the stigma of being associated with her. 

Legolas stepped away from the antlered throne, looking frustrated. Tauriel met his eyes and tried to silently communicate her gratefulness to him for attempting to intervene on her behalf. If she knew Legolas--and she did, better than anyone--there was quiet fury simmering under his calm exterior. She suspected that all of this had come as a surprise to Legolas. Doubtless that had been a deliberate choice on the King's part so that Legolas's reaction would help to convince the Dwarves that her punishment was real.

It certainly felt real, as she was escorted by Royal Guards into the dark corridors in the depths of the Palace. The upper reaches of the Palace were light, open, and airy, particularly striking considering that the Palace was built into a mountain. Delving into the deeper parts of the Palace, the illusion of being aboveground went away quickly. 

Tauriel tried to imagine spending twenty years in this dark place and shuddered. The only other person who knew that her imprisonment was a ruse was the King, and his word was quite literally law. If he decided to continue her imprisonment after she reported on the Dwarves' plans to him, who would speak against him? 

_If_ she reported on the Dwarves' plans to him. Her stomach hurt at the thought of betraying sweet Ori, clever Bilbo, and kind Bofur. And worst of all was the thought of betraying Kíli, of seeing his warm eyes turn cold with anger.

The guards who were accompanying her stopped in front of a door and the rest of the guards continued on. Tauriel's heart clenched at the sight of Kíli craning his neck to keep her in sight. 

How did the King intend this to work, if she was to be imprisoned so far from the Dwarves?

The cell door clicked shut behind her with a horribly final sound. Tauriel crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself against a sudden chill, and turned to assess her prison.

She was in what she suspected was a cell meant for higher status prisoners. The room was small but neat. The bed looked comfortable, there was a small writing desk with a chair, and the necessities appeared to be tucked away behind a curtain at the back of the cell for privacy. Other than the fact that the door was made of twining bars carved like branches and locked from the other side, it looked like a small room meant for a visitor to the Palace.

It would be quite pleasant, if it were not a prison cell.

Tauriel sat on the bed, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. In one day she had gone from being the First Scout and Captain of the Forest Guard, an impressive accomplishment for an orphan from a dead clan, to nothing but a prisoner. A prisoner, furthermore, with a task given by her King that demanded she betray people who in a very short period of time had become surprisingly important to her. 

She smiled sadly, imagining she heard Kíli's voice shouting insults at the guards. 

She sat bolt upright as she realized that she wasn't imagining Kíli's angry shouting at all. She could hear him, and the sound wasn't coming from the door of the cell as she would expect if it was being carried down the corridor. No, she was hearing it from the _back_ of the cell.

She followed the sound of shouting to the curtained-off area at the back of the cell. The curtain served to cover a doorway at the back of the cell. Once she stepped through that doorway she found a narrow passageway with a privy on one side, screened by another curtain, and a small alcove that she supposed was an area intended for changing clothing on the other side. Kíli's voice was coming through the wall at the back of that alcove, where the mortar between the stones had crumbled and revealed a narrow gap.

Ah. That was the King's plan for how she would communicate with the Dwarves and learn how they intended to enter Erebor.

Tauriel waited for the shouting to die down. Her ears burned at some of Kíli's insults. _Pointy-eared tree-fucker_ , really! 

At last Kíli appeared to run out of steam. Tauriel leaned against the wall next to the narrow gap and whispered, "Kíli?"

She heard him make a wordless exclamation and then the pad of bare feet on stone. "Tauriel?" Kíli whispered breathlessly. "Is that you?"

Sliding down the wall, she sat on the floor with her head pressed against the stone near the gap. "Yes, it's me. Are you well?"

"I'm fine, but you--! I can't believe the Elvenking had you imprisoned. All you did was help us."

She shook her head. "I knew that King Thranduil would be displeased if I aided you, and I did it anyway. I have no one to blame but myself." Her eyes prickled with tears suddenly but she refused to let them fall.

There was a scrabbling sound on the other side of the gap. "I can't reach. Can you fit your hand through the gap?"

She slid her hand through the narrow gap in the stone, barely wide enough for her forearm to fit. She felt Kíli's large, callused fingers fold around hers.

"I'm sorry, Tauriel."

She closed her eyes, feeling the tears begin to slip down her cheeks. "So am I." 

He didn't ask her why. For that, she was grateful.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the point at which I should warn for The Hobbit: DOS spoilers. Things aren't going to go exactly the way they did in the book or the movie, but I am borrowing certain additions to the plot from the movie.

Holding hands through the crack in the wall, they sat and talked for hours in the cold darkness of their cells. Tauriel told Kíli of the reason for the celebration that echoed above them and how important starlight was to the Silvan Elves. 

"My people roamed the forest and the plains about it for years without number before the Enemy came. We feasted and danced in celebration of the light of the stars. Even now in these darker days, we celebrate the changes of the constellations with the seasons." 

"With a big party? I must say, your people sound a lot more fun than that stuffy bunch in Rivendell. Other than imprisoning us, of course."

"Of course, that does tend to put a damper on things." She heard him chuckle and smiled sadly, leaning her head against the cold stone wall and imagining Kíli's smile. "I wish--"

"What?"

"Doesn't matter." She heard him fumbling with something with his free hand a moment before he slipped a smooth stone into her palm. "What's this?"

"It's a runestone my mother gave me, to remember her by and to give me luck. I hold it whenever I'm scared or lonely and it comforts me. I thought maybe you'd be able to sense that in the stone and it would make you feel better."

"Oh, Kíli. Thank you." She blinked back tears, stubbornly refusing to let them fall. They sat in silence for a few moments before she mused aloud, "I wish you could have seen my home in happier days. The forest was full of light and beauty once."

"I think the forest is full of beauty as long as you are in it."

She coughed, feeling her ear-tips going red with embarrassment. It was almost a relief to hear the scrape of a boot outside her cell. 

"Tauriel? Are you well?" Legolas called quietly.

Tauriel squeezed Kíli's hand. "I'll be right back," she said in an undertone. Standing, she realized that the runestone was still in her hand and quickly tucked it into her undertunic. The stone was cool and smooth against the skin of her breast. 

She ducked past the curtain at the back of her cell and saw Legolas waiting outside the cell door. "My dear friend," she said in Sindarin as she crossed the cell to him. 

They both spoke Westron with perfect fluency and would sometimes switch languages in the middle of a conversation. She thought it would be safer to have this conversation in a language the Dwarves could not understand, however, just in case any of them were close enough to overhear it.

Legolas looked worried and tense. There was an unfamiliar line of strain between his eyebrows. "Friend of my heart, I have been frantic with worry for you. My father would not allow me to come visit you at all. It was not until just now that I was able to sneak away without him noticing."

She leaned against the twining bars of the cell, asking, "How did you manage that? Your father the King is as watchful as any dragon."

"The traders brought Dorwinion wine and my father has been deep into his cups tonight. This business with the Dwarves is troubling him greatly. I have tried to argue with him about imprisoning you but he will not listen to reason."

"Legolas..." She hated lying to him. "Do not worry. I am sure his anger will pass soon."

He shook his head. "I am not so certain. Tauriel, you are my dearest friend. We have been inseparable since we were children."

"You mean to say, since you were almost a warrior full-grown and I was still an annoying little Elfling tugging at your cloak," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Even so." His smile was brief, gone as soon as it appeared. "I will keep arguing with my father when he recovers from his revelry. I will not let him keep you here. I'll break you out myself if he will not listen to reason."

Her breath caught. "Legolas, no. You do not need to--" 

There was a cold, angry light in his eyes that she had not often seen in him outside of battle. "I swear that I will free you, Tauriel. Whatever it takes."

Tauriel closed her eyes, frustrated by the impossible position King Thranduil had put her into. She had to tell Legolas the truth, or else he would do something terribly foolish. Opening her eyes, she said, "Listen to me." She was careful to lower her voice to a bare whisper, even though she was sure that none of the Dwarves spoke Sindarin. "Your father believes that the Dwarves plan to enter Erebor. He has ordered me to find out what they have planned and report back to him. If I do this, he has promised to free me."

His eyes widened. "Truly?"

"Truly. So you see, you do not need to worry about me. I will be fine. Please do not do anything drastic." She reached a hand through the bars to catch one of his and squeezed his fingers, noticing almost despite herself how cold and thin they felt compared to Kíli's large, warm hand.

Legolas sighed, his shoulders dropping. "If you are certain. But I promise that if you need me to, I will defy my father to free you."

She smiled as confidently as she could. With a few more words of reassurance, she sent him back up to the feast before he could be missed.

Sighing, Tauriel leaned her head against the cold bars after he had left. She could not obey her King's orders and live with her conscience, but if she did not obey him, he would keep her imprisoned here for as long as he saw fit. Even Legolas, his favored younger son, would not be able to dissuade Thranduil once he had decided on a course of action. 

"Caught between the cliff and the forest fire," she muttered to herself in Sindarin.

"I've been there. It's frightfully uncomfortable and I really wouldn't recommend it," a voice replied quietly in Westron.

She jerked her head up, gasping as she saw Bilbo standing in the shadows of the corridor. "How--? Friend Bilbo, you are indeed the stealthiest person I have ever met." She paused and then said slowly, "And you speak Sindarin."

He grinned and said modestly, "I'm really only so-so with it. Better at understanding it than actually speaking it. But if what you're asking is whether I understood your conversation with the prince just now, the answer is yes."

"And? Will you tell the Dwarves that I plan to betray them?" The question caused a sharp pang just under her breastbone.

"No," he said simply. 

"What? Why not?"

"I don't believe that you mean to betray them."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you fear King Thranduil just as much as you respect him, but what you fear even more is being trapped."

"I... cannot deny that. You are as perceptive as you are stealthy."

"That's why I'm the Company Burglar," he said with a smile she couldn't quite parse. "I have a counter-offer for you. Come with us, Tauriel."

She shook her head, doubting her own ears. "What did you say?"

"Come with us. You won't betray us to the Elvenking and if we escape tonight, you know your chances of being released drop to almost nothing. So help us escape and come with us to Erebor."

All of the reasons why not to do so flashed through her head. But overriding the sensible reasons was the memory of standing on the rocky cliff beyond the river-gate, watching Lake-Town in the distance. There were so many times that she had stood there, imagining all of the people and places that she would never see for herself. She loved the forest, but a part of her burned to see the world.

And if a small part of her also thought of Kíli's smile when he breathed the free air again, well... the heart was a foolish and silly thing.

Tauriel tilted her head, watching Bilbo closely. "Thorin Oakenshield will not approve."

He smiled wryly. "You know, I've spent the last three months learning that Thorin Oakenshield is many great things: brave, loyal, inspiring, a true hero. But he is also quite often completely and totally wrong. Particularly when it is anything having to do with Elves."

She inclined her head slowly. "He will be fortunate indeed to have you as a royal advisor."

"Hah. Let's not be getting ahead of ourselves." Bilbo produced a ring of keys that had been tucked inside his coat and tried them on her door until one of them fit. The door swung open soundlessly. 

Tauriel breathed a deep sigh of relief as she stepped out of the jail cell. "We'll have to move quickly. The next guard round is in half an hour. How do you mean to escape? The front entrance to the Palace will be sealed shut. King Thranduil's enchantment upon that door is unbreakable."

"I thought the wine cellars. The empty wine barrels are carried away on a river that empties into the lake, are they not?"

"Yes, they are," she said. "That route will exit the kingdom by the river-gate. The guards on that gate are accustomed to seeing empty barrels floating down the river to be collected by the Men of Lake-Town. If we are very quiet and very lucky, they may not notice us at all."

"Well, let's get on with it then."

Despite his confident words, Bilbo looked a bit nervous as they hurried down the corridor to the cells where the Dwarves had been imprisoned. Tauriel could have brought down dozens of guards on them simply by shouting. But she did not intend to. Now that she had made the decision to defy King Thranduil, a giddy excitement was coursing through her veins. 

She had thought that all that was left to look forward to was centuries of fighting a losing war against the spiders and Orcs, as they continued to lose ground until all that was left of the once-great kingdom of the Elves of the Greenwood was a fortress surrounded on all sides by evil while King Thranduil refused to hunt the corruption down to its source. No, she would take action, and though she did not know where this path would lead, perhaps helping the Dwarves of Erebor take back their mountain kingdom would strike a blow against the evil that was slowly creeping across their lands.

They freed Bofur first. He gave Tauriel a bone-creakingly vigorous hug while pounding her on the back. "Knew you wouldn't turn your back on the Company. You're one of us now!"

Blinking and stunned, she could only think to say, "One of you?" 

He nodded emphatically at her and settled his hat more firmly on his head. "Knew you were a good apple the minute I met you."

They continued down the corridor, freeing Dwalin and Nori from the same cell, Fíli, and then Kíli. 

"Tauriel!" Kíli exclaimed after hugging his brother, crossing the corridor to her and catching her hand in his. "I was worried when you didn't come back."

"I am sorry that you were worried," she said, feeling her ear-tips turning pink at the knowing looks that all the other Dwarves were giving them. "I still have your runestone," she added quietly as they started moving down the corridor again to free the remaining Dwarves from their jail cells.

"Keep it for now. It might bring you luck." He glanced up at her under his eyelashes as he said that with the barest hint of a teasing smile at the edges of his lips. She felt the warmth of desire curl through her body unexpectedly. 

Tauriel sucked in a breath and blinked several times, startled by the feeling. It was almost a relief that Bilbo unlocked Thorin Oakenshield's cell at that moment, distracting her from the sudden feeling of awareness thrumming through her.

Thorin rounded furiously on Bilbo as soon as he noticed Tauriel's presence. "What have you done, Halfling? The Elf will betray us in a moment to her kin. You cannot trust Elves." Most of the other Dwarves made noises of agreement.

"If she was going to betray us, she would have done so already," Bilbo said. "Listen to me, we don't have time to argue about this. The guards will be by soon. We need to keep moving." 

Thorin raised a hand, instantly cutting off the argument starting up between the members of the Company. "We will follow Master Baggins' plan."

Thorin Oakenshield's word appeared to be law, for the Dwarves immediately stopped arguing and fell in behind Bilbo. He led the way deeper into the Palace, ignoring the doubtful mutters as the Dwarves realized they were heading down instead of up. 

They paused outside the door to the wine cellar. "The Steward and a few of his men are probably in there," Tauriel warned him in an undertone.

"And that is why we must be very quiet," Bilbo said with a meaningful look at Thorin, who made a gesture that silenced the whispers coming from behind them.

They crept into the wine cellar as quietly as a party of thirteen Dwarves, a Hobbit, and an Elf could manage. The Steward was passed out drunk, asleep at the table with one of the jail guards, who was in the same state. She made a mental note to have the guard punished before remembering that she was not in the position to be handing out disciplinary assignments and probably never would be again. She felt lost and adrift at the realization. If she was not Captain of the Forest Guard of Mirkwood, then who was she?

Distracted by her thoughts, she did not realize that there was someone else in the room until Cirdolas came into sight from behind a rack of wine bottles. He held a blanket which he draped over his father the Steward's shoulders. 

Everyone froze as he looked up and saw them.

Cirdolas's eyes were huge. " _Minui_?" he asked uncertainly.

Behind her, she could hear the Dwarves shifting in a way that suggested that not all of their weapons had been confiscated by the guards. Tauriel held her hands out to the side, palms down, hoping that the Dwarves wouldn't do anything impulsive. Fortunately, they knew that Cirdolas was only a child. She hoped that would give her a moment to salvage the situation.

"Apprentice," she said in Westron. 

Cirdolas's shoulders shook with a single strangled sob. He threw himself across the space separating them to wrap his arms around her middle and bury his face in her neck. " _Minui_. I was so worried about you."

"Don't fret, apprentice." It felt a little less awkward this time to put her arms around his shoulders and hug him back. She shifted them so that Cirdolas's face was angled away from the Dwarves, in case he somehow hadn't noticed them. 

The Dwarves were staring at them, looking varying degrees of angry, worried, and surprised. She shook her head at them, trying to communicate that she would handle this. Though she didn't honestly know how. Perhaps she could talk Cirdolas into going back upstairs quietly.

"Are you escaping?" he whispered into her ear. 

Tauriel froze.

"Take me with you. Please."

"Cirdolas, no," she whispered. "You have a place here. Your father--"

"My father is a drunkard who cares only for status and currying favor. I want to go with you, wherever that is. You're my Captain. I don't care what anyone says about you."

His voice was getting louder with agitation. Tauriel pulled Cirdolas behind the shelter of the wall of empty barrels, ignoring the angry muttering coming from many of the Dwarves. 

"Listen to me," she said, pulling back to look at him with her hands resting on his shoulders. "If you truly want to help me, then you will help us escape and then you will do your very best to distance yourself from me publically. That is how you can help me the most. All right?"

Cirdolas scrubbed his sleeve across his wet cheeks and took a deep breath. "That is what you want me to do?"

"Yes." She pulled him close to her side with an arm around his shoulders. Turning to Bilbo, she said, "Cirdolas will pull the lever."

"What lever?" Dwalin growled suspiciously.

The Dwarves were extremely unhappy about crawling into barrels, and even more unhappy with the idea that an adolescent Elf would be in charge of pulling the lever that would drop them into a river. At first she thought that they would refuse to go along with it, but Thorin Oakenshield's faith in Bilbo's plan was once again all that was needed to make all of the Dwarves stop arguing and go along with it.

They climbed into the barrels as quickly as they could. Kíli's barrel was next to hers. He grinned at her, looking nervous. "Do you still have my runestone?" At her nod, he said, "Hold onto it. For luck."

She couldn't help smiling back at him. "I will."

There was a distant sound of shouting. The guards had finally noticed their disappearance. "Pull the lever!" one of the Dwarves hissed.

Biting his lip fiercely, Cirdolas pulled the lever that released the counterweighted ramp. Fifteen barrels filled with Dwarves, a Hobbit, and an Elf fell a good twenty feet into the underground river.

Everything was chaos for a few minutes. The barrel dipped below the surface, spilling cold water on her, rocking back and forth hard before finally steadying. 

Blinking water out of her eyes, Tauriel took stock of the situation. As far as she could tell, all of the barrels and barrel-inhabitants had survived the fall intact. Bilbo seemed to have been shaken out of his barrel and was clinging onto the side of Bofur's. 

There was a creak and a splash behind them. Tauriel turned in time to see her idiot of an apprentice surface from under the water and then begin to swim towards them through the racing current.

"Cirdolas! What were you thinking?" she demanded as she pulled him up to hold onto the edge of her barrel.

"You're my Captain and my _herdir_ ," he said once he had caught his breath. "I'm not leaving you."

Then there was no time to talk anymore, as the underground river poured over a waterfall on its way to the sunlight. Tauriel held onto Cirdolas's arms to brace him as they entered the rapids below the waterfall, for there was certainly not enough room in the barrel for two people.

Then crude arrows of Orcish make came winging out of the sky. A troop of Orcs chased them along the banks of the river, firing arrows and occasionally leaping onto the barrels from the shore when the current allowed for it. Chasing after the Orcs came a number of Palace Guards, who fortunately seemed more concerned with killing the Orcs than recapturing the prisoners--at least for now.

The Dwarves fought the Orcs as best they could without weapons of their own, snatching swords and axes from the Orcs whenever they could. Tauriel knew that the river-gate was coming up soon and prayed to Oromë that they would make it through the gate before the gate guards realized what was going on. 

It actually seemed that they might make it at first, the gate guards too distracted by the attacking Orcs to notice the escaping prisoners in the barrels below, but then the barred gate descended just in time to cut them off from the hope of escape.

"Stay here," Tauriel told Cirdolas, hoping that for once he would actually obey. She balanced for a moment on the lip of her barrel before leaping to the shore. 

A clump of five Orcs blocked her from the steps leading to the platform that held the lever that would release the gate. She kicked one of them in the wrist hard enough to send the sword it held spinning upward, caught the sword as it fell, and beheaded the Orc with a sweep of the purloined sword. The four remaining Orcs howled with anger as they charged her. 

The first Orc she took out with a slash to its gut. Spinning around, she used the second Orc's momentum to send it right onto her blade. She had just finished off the third Orc when she saw Kíli running up the steps to the platform.

It took her a few moments to duck under the fourth Orc's wild swing and gut it as she ran towards the steps. Leaping up the steps, she was just in time to see a huge, hideous Orc grinning in apparent pleasure as it aimed an arrow at Kíli from the shore.

"Kíli!" she screamed, but it was too late. The arrow pierced his thigh just as he reached for the lever. 

Crying out in agony, Kíli pulled the lever that would release the river-gate and then collapsed limply to the ground.

"Kíli! _No!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> minui - first  
> herdir - master (in this case meaning an apprentice's teacher)


	7. Chapter 7

"Kíli, _no!_ " 

The shout came from the direction of the Dwarves in the barrels, which had just begun moving down the river again now that the river gate had been opened by Kíli. Tauriel thought that had probably been Fíli shouting, but she did not even have time to spare a glance toward the barrels as she ran up the last few steps to the platform. 

She found Kíli curled in on himself in agony, clutching at his leg where a black-fletched arrow had pierced the meat of his thigh.

She scooped him into her arms and leaped up onto the crenellations at the top of the gate. She balanced for a moment, judging the distance, and then jumped for the barrels floating by below them. He shouted with pain as they landed with a jarring thump in one of the empty barrels. 

His eyes rolled back in his head, Kíli seemed on the verge of passing out from the pain. He rested awkwardly halfway on the edge of the barrel with the arrow still sticking out of his thigh. She reached out with her free hand to touch the arrow and physically recoiled from the feeling of evil that emanated from the shaft. Something about that arrow felt _wrong_ , like cold malice and corruption.

Tauriel craned her neck to look behind them at the pack of Orcs on the river bank. Something seemed ominous about the triumphant grin on the face of the big ugly Orc as he watched them float away. 

The current of the river grew stronger past the river gate, whirling the motley collection of thirteen Dwarves, two Elves, and a Hobbit around in their barrels as they hit a short stretch of rapids. The Orc pack still pursued them, hunted in turn by the Forest Guard. She thought that perhaps she had caught a glimpse of Legolas through the trees, but she could not spare what was going on around them more than a fraction of her attention, just enough to duck under the occasional Orcish arrow. 

She had to get the arrow out of Kíli's leg as soon as possible. She could sense sickness spreading from the wound already.

Kíli moaned, his eyes fluttering open in his ashen pale face. "Tauriel...?"

"Put your arms around my neck and hold on tight." She would need both of her hands to pull the arrow out.

He obeyed her instructions though he looked a little confused. "Knew you'd come around... eventually," he panted. "I tend to grow on people."

Even in excruciating pain with an arrow sticking out of his leg, he was still trying to flirt. She shook her head in amazement as she positioned her hands to pull the arrow out. "I have to pull the arrow out of your leg. This is going to hurt," she warned him.

"I can take it. Do it." He muffled his scream in her shoulder as she grasped the shaft of the arrow close to the skin of his thigh and pulled the arrow out as quickly and cleanly as she could.

She had meant to hold onto the arrow to examine it further. However, as she pulled the shaft out it burned her palms like the coldest metal in the depths of winter, but infinitely worse. Crying out, Tauriel dropped the arrow immediately and watched as it sank into the racing water of the river.

Kíli was panting into her shoulder and clearly trying to hold his whimpering back behind clenched teeth. 

"It is out," she said unnecessarily. Kíli responded with a string of words in the Dwarven language that she could only assume was vehement cursing.

The barrel rocked back and forth suddenly as the river flowed around an outcropping of rock. Kíli sucked in a deep breath through his nose. Tauriel wrapped her arms around him to hold him steady, balanced as he was on the edge of the barrel. "We need to bind your wound. Bouncing around in these barrels isn't helping either."

"Maybe we can just... tell the Orc pack to come back later."

"Somehow I do not believe they will agree to that." She glanced down at him, relieved to see that he was well enough to make a joke, though his face was still worryingly pale.

She turned her head at the sound of Orcs shouting on the shore and saw Legolas sliding down the slope riding the corpse of an Orc, then leaping from it to behead another one before it could even raise its weapon against him. 

Kíli followed her gaze. "Your friend is a show-off."

She shook her head absently, still watching Legolas cut a swath through the Orcs. "Legolas is one of the finest warriors in Mirkwood, second only to the King. We are lucky that he seems to be more concerned with killing the Orcs than he is with recapturing us."

Then Orcs found a convenient overlook to leap onto the barrels from and they were too busy fending off Orcs to speak any more.

Kíli caught a sword tossed to him by his brother and used it to stab an Orc as it leaped onto their barrel. The barrel wobbled wildly, forcing Tauriel to grab onto Kíli around his waist or else lose him to the racing water. There seemed nothing to it but to pull Kíli into the barrel with her. There was barely enough room for the both of them to stand inside the barrel, but it was possible, if cozy.

He grinned cheekily up at her but made no comment, distracted by an Orc who had taken a running leap onto one of the empty barrels. With her arms now freed, Tauriel was able to snag an axe from a dying Orc. It was better than nothing, but she found herself bitterly missing her bow and arrow.

Legolas appeared near them suddenly, having leaped from the shore to balance on one foot on the edge of an empty barrel. He shot two Orcs in quick succession then called to her in Sindarin, "Tauriel, what are you doing? Why are you helping the Dwarves to escape?"

In the same language, she answered, "What am I doing? I am finally doing something that will make a difference. We cannot hide within our borders and ignore the rest of the world any longer. Or have you not noticed that year by year our borders grow smaller while the evil grows ever stronger?"

He leapt onto an overhanging tree, used his knives to dispatch an Orc archer, then smoothly swung from the tree branch back to balance with his feet resting on both sides of a barrel that happened to be inhabited by a Dwarf. Dwalin looked mightily displeased to share his barrel with an Elf.

"You have betrayed my father's trust, Tauriel, but he would forgive you if you came home now."

She met his eyes for a long moment. "But I would not be able to forgive myself."

Frowning, Legolas leaped from Dwalin's barrel up to the shore, where he proceeded to take out two Orcs with a single arrow.

"Now _that_ is showing off," Kíli said. "What were the two of you talking about so intensely?"

"We were having a difference of philosophy."

"Fine, don't tell me," he said, shrugging.

At last the Orcs fell behind the river's swift current. Kíli groaned a little under his breath as he shifted his weight to put less pressure on his wounded leg. Tauriel paused a moment, feeling like she was about to be terribly forward, and then slid her arms around his waist so that he could lean on her.

"I should get shot more often, if it gets me this kind of treatment."

Tauriel could feel herself blushing. "Please endeavor not to."

Leaning against her, Kíli chuckled quietly. 

The river broadened and slowed as it neared the lake. They paddled their barrels close to the shore and then climbed out of them as best they could, ending up a water-soaked, bedraggled bunch on the pebbled shore of the river.

Tauriel helped Kíli hobble up the shore to a rock where he could sit. He sat down heavily, grimacing with pain.

Fíli hurried over to them. "Kíli! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Fíli. Just give me a minute."

"Uncle, Kíli is wounded," Fíli called. "We need to rest."

"Two minutes," Thorin said tersely. His eyes flicked over to Tauriel. "None of that Elven magic, either. Oin! Take a look at Kíli, he's wounded."

As soon as Thorin walked away, Fíli asked her quietly, "Could you heal Kíli with Elven magic?"

She tried to think of a simple way to explain it. "It is possible that I could, but it should be used only as a last resort. I'm not a healer, I'm a warrior."

"I'm fine," Kíli tried convincing them again. They both rolled their eyes at him.

Oin shooed them away so that he could work. Walking along the shore to where Cirdolas and Ori sat together, Tauriel sat on the pebbled beach next to them. Bilbo and Bofur huddled together a little further down the shore.

"Will he be alright?" Cirdolas asked.

Tauriel paused. Was this the point where she was supposed to come up with a soothing lie? Deciding that honesty was probably a better course, she said, "He is very sick. I pray that Oin will be able to heal him. I think the arrow was... tainted in some way."

Ori took off one of his boots and poured water out of it. "We're mostly immune to poisons. He should be fine... soon," he finished slowly after a long pause. Tauriel looked in his direction, alerted by the tension in his voice. 

There was a Man in a ragged leather coat standing above them on the shore with a longbow trained on Ori. 

Tauriel spread her arms out to the side slowly, showing that she was not armed. A flash of surprise crossed the man's face as he noticed her. She assumed he was unused to the sight of an Elf traveling with Dwarves. 

Then one of the Dwarves decided to throw a knife at the Man and everything almost went very wrong, very quickly. Fortunately everyone calmed down after a little posturing without getting Ori--or anyone else--shot.

It turned out that the Man's name was Bard and he worked as a bargeman. Balin attempted to convince him that they were simple traders who needed him to transport them to Lake-Town, but the Man shook his head and pointed out the marks of battle on the barrels. "Somehow I don't think that your business in the Forest Realm ended well for you."

Bofur whispered loudly to Tauriel, "You try convincing him." He winked and jerked his head in the Man's direction.

_Oh, that was very subtle_ , she thought. 

Clearing her throat, Tauriel stood beside Balin in Guard rest stance and said, "My presence should serve as confirmation that these Dwarves had official business with King Thranduil."

Not _quite_ a lie. 

The Man looked askance at her and Tauriel abruptly remembered that she was dripping wet, unarmed, and dressed only in her undertunic and trousers. "Forgive me for doubting that you act as an official agent of the Forest Realm in this matter," he said with an impressive level of deadpan. "But I will need a bit more proof than that."

"Why don't you let me handle it from here, lass." Balin widened his eyes meaningfully at her when she hesitated. She could hear him asking the Man about his family as she walked away.

Oin appeared to be done with Kíli so she joined him and his brother on the rocks above the shore. "How is your wound?"

"Right as rain. Don't worry about me! Us Dwarves are tough." Despite his words, Kíli still looked worryingly pale, his skin slick with sweat in spite of the chill in the air and their wet clothing.

Fíli had taken his boots off and his legs were stretched out in the weak sunlight. "That was some fine sword-work back there," he told her with a nod.

Tauriel murmured her thanks, still a bit bewildered that Fíli's attitude had thawed so quickly. It had seemed that up until the giant spider attack he had been wary of her, suspicious that she would harm Kíli in some way. She wasn't sure what had happened to turn his opinion of her around.

"It really was! I'd love to spar with you some time," Kíli said, beaming at her.

Fíli muttered something in the Dwarven language and Kíli punched him in the arm, hissing, "Shut up!"

Tauriel found herself laughing despite the gravity of her situation. She had left her life in the Forest Realm behind and would probably never be able to return. She knew no one outside of Mirkwood except for this group of Dwarves (many of whom, including their leader, distrusted her), one Hobbit, and an adolescent Elf.

Her eyes went automatically to Cirdolas where he sat talking with Ori, the two of them still thick as thieves even after the Dwarves' imprisonment in Thranduil's palace. The young Elf seemed cheerful and excited about being on an adventure. She was fairly sure that meant that he hadn't yet thought through the long-term consequences of his actions today.

Kíli followed her gaze. "You're worried about the little one."

"He's my apprentice. And..." She looked back at Kíli, meeting his soft oak-brown eyes. "The Elves of Mirkwood do not have many children. Fewer are born each decade. In fact I think that Cirdolas may have been the only child born in his decade. To be responsible for his safety is... terrifying." 

She shook her head. "I still can't believe the little idiot actually followed me."

Kíli grinned, bumping his shoulder against hers. "You don't really think he's an idiot, any more than Uncle Thorin thinks we're idiots. Errr, most of the time, that is." 

Fíli snickered.

"Everyone, gather round!" Smiling widely, Balin announced to the group, "Master Bard has kindly agreed to smuggle us into Lake-Town. Grab your gear and let's go." 

Some of the more high-spirited Dwarves--Fíli and Kíli included--whooped with joy. Their enthusiasm was somewhat dampened by the discovery that Bard meant to smuggle them into Lake-Town inside the barrels. 

"I've had enough of barrels," Dwalin growled with his thick-muscled arms crossed over his chest.

"Well, that's the only way I'm going to be able to sneak you all into town," Bard said, leaning on his boat hook. "Take it or leave it."

As they walked onto the barge, the Man squinted at Tauriel and Cirdolas doubtfully. "I might be able to smuggle the dwarves into town in barrels but you two would never fit. Hmmm. Any problems with being in a small space that you can't get out of on your own?"

"We are trained to remain calm under such circumstances," she said.

"Fair enough." Bard lifted up a plank on the deck of his barge, revealing a shallow smuggler's hideaway holding a few crates of unlabeled bottles. Behind her, she could hear a few of the dwarves grumbling about special treatment.

Bard asked sharply, "Would you rather the Master's men catch you entering Lake-Town because an Elf cannot fit inside a barrel quite as neatly as a Dwarf?" The grumbling died away quickly.

Tauriel helped Cirdolas to climb into the hideaway then turned to see Kíli smiling at her. 

He glanced to the side, where Thorin stood talking with Dwalin, and then winked at her. "See you on the other side," he said quietly.

"Be safe, _mellon nin_."

"You'll have to tell me what that means later."

She inclined her head to him. "I look forward to it."

The last thing she saw before Bard lowered the plank in place was Kíli's crinkle-eyed grin.

"Are you two courting?" her apprentice whispered, all big green eyes and barely suppressed excitement in the dark, cramped space under the deck.

Tauriel cleared her throat uncomfortably. Kíli had said that he cared for her in the giant spider's cocoon, and he certainly seemed attracted to her, but that did not necessarily mean _courting_. He was a Prince, even if he currently did not have a kingdom, and she was... nothing. Not even a Captain of the Forest Guard anymore. Yes, technically she was the Clan Mother of _Eregnoss_ , but that was a completely meaningless distinction considering that she was the only living member of her clan. 

"Try to get some rest," was all that she finally said. Cirdolas pouted at her, sighing dramatically before settling down into a light meditative trance. 

The sounds of movement on the deck finally died away, replaced by the slap of waves against the sides of the barge as they entered the Long Lake. 

Lake-Town stank of fish and wastewater. From inside the smuggler's hideaway, Tauriel listened to the argument between Bard and the man who apparently worked for the Master of Lake-Town. Was this what Thranduil's trade supported--a man so blinded by greed that only threatening armed insurrection would keep him from dumping food that his people desperately needed? She wondered how much the King knew of the situation in Lake-Town, and decided with a feeling of resignation that he probably knew and did not care. These Men were not of his realm, after all.

The Dwarves and Hobbit smelled overwhelmingly of fish after climbing out of the barrels. Tauriel had to keep herself from physically recoiling from the stench when Kíli sidled over to her. "What?" he asked, looking wounded.

"Nothing. You, ah... you have a little trout in your hair." She brushed at the air just above it, unwilling to touch it herself.

"Oh, right!" He ran his fingers through his hair, dislodging the piece of fish. "I must say, I'm not going to want to eat anything that tastes of fish anytime soon!"

Bofur inexplicably began coughing and choking at that moment, almost turning blue as he wheezed. He waved her off, saying, "I'm fine! Just a bit of lake water in my lungs. Hoo. I'll be fine."

Nori and Bifur appeared to be having an intense discussion in sign language which culminated in Nori sighing loudly and tossing a small coinpurse to the other Dwarf.

"What's that all about?" Tauriel asked Kíli.

"Ah." He stood with his mouth open for a few moments, wide-eyed. "Not really... sure?"

Kíli was terrible at coming up with a lie on short notice. Tauriel wasn't sure she should find it as adorable as she did.

The less said about how they entered Bard's house, the better. The only good side to it was that a thorough dunking in the lake resulted in the overpowering stench of fish being replaced by the smell of stale lakewater and wet Dwarf, which was marginally less awful.

It turned out that Bard had two adolescent daughters, both of whom seemed to find Cirdolas fascinating. Tauriel supposed they'd never seen an Elf of around their apparent age before. Her apprentice seemed a little taken aback, but tentatively pleased with all of the attention.

"Sigrid, put some water on to boil for washing up," Bard ordered. The older girl pouted for a moment before brightening as she pulled Cirdolas along with her to help fetch the water.

Bilbo raised his eyebrows at Tauriel. "The girls seem quite taken with your lad. Aren't you at all worried?"

She shook her head, puzzled. "Why should I be?" Now, if Bard's son had seemed intrigued with Cirdolas, that she might have needed to keep an eye on.

Bathing in a tub barely large enough to sit down in was a new and less than satisfying experience. Tauriel thought longingly of the baths in Thranduil's palace, with hot water pools large enough to swim in and artificial waterfalls in which to cool and rejuvenate oneself after bathing.

She only barely kept herself from staring at the great quantity of hair revealed as the Dwarves came one by one out of the bathing area, dressed in the ill-fitting clothing supplied by Bard. With his hair and beard down out of their elaborate braids, Nori in particular appeared to be practically more hair than Dwarf. 

Kíli joined her where she sat by the fire, brushing her hair out with a comb. Remembering the ridiculous outcry caused by Cirdolas tending to her hair, she had waved her apprentice off before he could even make the offer to re-braid her hair. 

"Your hair is so long." Kíli's eyes were wide as he watched her comb her hair. 

Tauriel felt a bit self-conscious. "I think Nori might have me beat for sheer length though, if you combine hair and beard."

"And it's really red." 

"Unfortunately, yes," she said, scowling at a stubborn knot.

"I think it's beautiful."

She looked up at him, caught off-guard by the compliment. "You are the only person who's ever thought so."

"Do Elves not prize red hair?" He seemed genuinely puzzled.

She shrugged. "It is considered... less than attractive." Eager to change the subject, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

He forced a wide smile. "Healthy as a pack pony."

Tauriel frowned at him. "You're sweating and still far too pale. I want to take a look at your wound later. I'm no healer, but I do know a little bit about wounds."

"Oin's got me patched up. I'll be fine."

Thorin's argument with Bard over the weapons effectively curtailed that conversation. She could appreciate Thorin's point about the weapons being inferior, but it was as good as they were going to get in this town. A skilled enough warrior could make do with the boat hooks and modified blacksmith hammers they were offered.

Thorin Oakenshield did not agree. As the Dwarves gathered themselves to go liberate real weapons from the town's armory (and probably get themselves killed in the process) he put an arm out, barring Tauriel from joining them. "Not you. I don't trust you and I don't know why you're pretending to help us."

Feeling stung, she snapped at him, "Well, it's certainly not for your sake."

"Is that so." Thorin's eyes went from her to Kíli, who stood hovering near them indecisively. "We do not need help from one of your kind, or anything else. Kíli! Come on," he growled, stomping away.

Kíli made a helpless grimace at her. "Sorry."

"It is not your fault that he is... the way he is. Be careful, please."

He smiled. "I promise I'll come back to you. I have to. You still have my runestone."

Kíli reached out to catch her hand, a bare press of fingers against fingers, and then squared his shoulders and followed his uncle away. Watching him walk away from her, Tauriel felt a shiver of dread running down her spine. 

Something was going to go terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:   
> mellon nin - my friend  
> Eregnoss - Holly-Tree Clan


	8. Chapter 8

The minute the Dwarves were out the door, Tauriel told Cirdolas, "Gather your belongings. We are leaving."

"Where are you going?" Bard's son asked. "You can't leave now. I wasn't supposed to let the Dwarves go either, not before my Da returns."

"Where did your father go? Why weren't you to let the Dwarves go?"

"He said he had to check on something. He should be back soon. Please wait, just a little while longer," the boy said anxiously.

Tauriel couldn't help smiling at him. He reminded her a bit of Cirdolas. What a difference their adventures with the Dwarves had made, she thought--it was only a handful of days ago that she had considered Cirdolas a spoiled, useless lordling and had bitterly resented being saddled with him as a trainee.

"Tell your _ada_ you could not stop us from leaving," she said. "I do not advise that you try, incidentally. Our thanks to your family for your kind hospitality."

She nodded to the girls, who insisted on hugging Cirdolas before they would let them go. Tauriel tried not to let her amusement show at her apprentice's baffled, wide-eyed expression. The children of Men made friendships quickly, it seemed. She supposed it made sense--they did not have the luxury of building a friendship over centuries.

Bard burst through the door to the house a moment before they stepped out onto the rickety porch. 

"Where are you going? Where are the Dwarves?" He sounded as breathless as if he had just run back across half the city.

"The Dwarves decided they had business elsewhere in Lake-Town. We go to meet them." She added in an undertone, "And keep Thorin Oakenshield from getting them all killed."

"Then he truly is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror? King Under the Mountain?"

"Yes. What of it?"

"My lady Elf, you must tell me where the Dwarves have gone. The safety of Lake-Town depends on it. If the King Under the Mountain takes back his throne, we are all doomed." He sounded grim and utterly certain of his words.

Her first impulse was to brush past him and catch up with the Dwarves, but something about Bard's tone made her pause and consider him intently. "I'm listening."

" _The lake shall shine and burn_ ," she repeated after Bard had told her of the prophecy. The cold trickle of unease slid down her spine again. "Prophecy does not always mean exactly what it appears to say."

"Are you willing to gamble my children's lives that it doesn't? Or yours?" His eyes went to Cirdolas, who was playing a game of Fox and Geese with Bard's oldest daughter while the younger one hung over his shoulder spectating.

"Oh, Cirdolas isn't my son," Tauriel explained. "He is my apprentice."

"But you would do anything to protect him, would you not? The same way I would sacrifice anything for my children's sake. We are the same in that respect, even if the boy is not yours by blood."

Tauriel paused, watching as Cirdolas laughed at something Tilda said. She nodded reluctantly. "I cannot deny the truth of that."

"Thorin Oakenshield must be stopped before he wakes the dragon. If he awakens that beast, Lake-Town is doomed as sure as I stand here before you." 

Would Thorin's quest destroy Lake-Town, as Bard feared? Thorin meant to enter Erebor, of that she was certain. And within the Lonely Mountain slumbered Smaug the Terrible, a great northern dragon of a size that had not been seen in this region in thousands of years. Not since the battle that ended the last Age, when tens of thousands of Silvan troops had been lost to dragon fire. Many of the smaller Silvan clans had never fully recovered from that loss of life. 

She tried to imagine a fire-breathing dragon attacking Lake-Town and shuddered at the thought of its rickety wooden buildings and single causeway to the shore. The loss of life would be devastating.

Thorin Oakenshield would never give up his quest, she feared. No amount of prophecies or reasoned arguments from outsiders would bend him from his course. Neither would he allow her to join them on their quest; tonight had proven that. If she could convince Fíli and Kíli that this quest was prophesied to end in disaster, would he listen to his nephews at least? But first they needed to catch up with the Dwarves before anything else happened.

It was the best chance they had. Tauriel nodded solemnly to Bard. "I believe they are on their way to the city armory as we speak. We may be too late to catch them before they reach it, but we can only try."

"Agreed."

"Apprentice, watch the house and protect Bard's children from harm." Cirdolas looked disappointed to be left behind, but pleased to be trusted with the responsibility.

"Here, put this cloak on and put the hood up," Bard said, offering her a faded green cloak that had been hung from a hook by the door.

Tauriel slipped it on, finding the fit decent enough, and flipped up the hood. "Why?"

"I've got enough rumors about me, the last thing I need is for the neighbors gossiping about me leaving the house late at night with a beautiful Elf woman," he said with a wink and a half-smile.

Though they hurried along the shortcuts that Bard knew, they were too late to do anything more than watch as the city guards took the Dwarves away. 

Tauriel felt a surge of fear mixed with annoyance. She had just helped them escape out of one prison, why were they so eager to return to imprisonment? "Where are the guards taking them?" 

"Not the jail." Bard frowned. "I think they're headed for the Master's house. We must follow them."

A crowd had gathered by the time they reached the Master's house. They pushed their way near the front of the crowd, watching the guards present the Dwarves to the Master.

Bard made increasingly angry noises under his breath as Thorin began to make extravagant promises about the wealth that would flow through the city once the Dwarves retook Erebor.

"Who does he think he is, to dangle wealth before the eyes of the starving, ignoring the danger he will bring down upon us all?"

"Bard, a public confrontation will not be likely to help--"

"I'm done being patient and biding my time. This is the time to speak out!"

Bard pushed his way to the very front of the crowd. Tauriel followed him, still trying in vain to convince him not to confront Thorin and the Master. Being challenged in public would only make Thorin more stubborn and resistant to reason.

"Listen to me!" Bard bellowed. The crowd around them took a step back, leaving Bard and Tauriel standing together. "You must listen!"

As Bard began speaking to the crowd, denouncing Thorin, the crowd shifted and Tauriel caught sight of Kíli standing surrounded by guards with the rest of the Dwarves. His eyes widened as he noticed her and hurt flashed across his face when he saw that she stood beside Bard.

Motivated either by greed at the thought of the Dwarven gold or a spiteful wish to publicly undermine Bard--probably both--the Master spoke out in support of the Dwarves and offered them the hospitality of the town before they continued on their journey to Erebor.

Bard returned to her, his features tight with fury, as the Master of Lake-Town ordered a house to be made available to the Dwarves and announced that there would be a feast that night in honor of the King Under the Mountain's return.

"Greed-blinded idiots," Bard fumed as the crowd cheered. "They will toast the return of the King Under the Mountain without a single thought of the danger that faces us all if Smaug awakens. They will feast and sing while Lake-Town burns."

Tauriel followed him away from the square after pausing to look back at Kíli. Through the celebrating crowd, she caught a glimpse of the betrayed look on his face. Obviously he thought that the fact that she accompanied Bard meant that she supported the bargeman's attempt to discredit Thorin.

"Confrontation will not sway Thorin Oakenshield from his course," she said, keeping up easily with the Man's longer strides. "I can try to talk to Thorin's nephews, Fíli and Kíli. Perhaps if I can convince them that their quest will end in disaster, Thorin might be willing to listen to them."

"Do you truly think Thorin son of Thrain will listen to anyone, even his kin, if they try to dissuade him?"

"I do not know," she admitted. "But it is the best chance that we have."

Bard nodded solemnly to her. "Then may your words find their marks like arrows to their target."

The sounds of merrymaking echoed from the brightly lit windows of the house the Master had given to the Dwarves. She could hear singing from within as she crouched on a nearby rooftop. They appeared to be singing a song based on the prophecy Bard had told her, but with much more cheerful words and no hint of fiery disaster.

A hint of movement on one of the house's balconies drew her eyes. Kíli sat smoking a pipe on a covered balcony, sitting wrapped in a blanket with his injured leg propped up on a stool. The balcony was sheltered on two sides and a small brazier provided warmth against the chill in the air.

"You are not joining the others?" she asked as she dropped lightly onto the balcony.

Kíli jumped and swore in Dwarvish, nearly dropping his pipe. "Tauriel!"

She smiled at him. "It is good to see you, _mellon nin_."

He frowned at her instead of smiling back as she had expected and said sulkily, "I'm not sure I was expecting to ever see you again."

"It was not that difficult to find this house. I could hear the singing several blocks away," she teased him.

"I just...thought you'd be busy with _Bard_." He accented the bargeman's name as viciously as any curse word.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he's good-looking and," his mouth twisted, "tall."

"He is tall for a Man, and not ill-favored," she agreed cautiously. "But what has that to do with anything?"

"Do you like him?" Kíli asked abruptly.

Tauriel frowned. "He seems honorable, if stubborn and slow to listen. But I don't think that is what you mean. Are you...are you _jealous_?"

Even in the dim light, she could see his face flush. "No!" He shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe a little."

"Why would you be jealous of Bard? I barely know him."

Kíli's jaw clenched. "You barely know _me_."

Tauriel took a moment to put her words in order, feeling out the truth of what she said as she spoke. "We may have only met a few days ago, but I have never known anyone as quickly as I grew to know you, Kíli. It frightens me a little, how quickly you have become important to me."

"I'm important to you? A stupid, ugly Dwarf?"

"You are not stupid and you are far from ugly, Kíli. Your soul is beautiful."

"Yeah?" He looked up at her under his eyelashes and then glanced away. "Too bad about the face, eh?"

"You look very different to an Elf, but--I think you're handsome."

"Really?" He grinned shyly, looking pleased. "Well, you already know how beautiful you are. I'm sure you've got dozens of suitors in Mirkwood."

Tauriel couldn't help it--she laughed at him. "Hardly, but I thank you for the compliment nevertheless."

"What do you mean? You're gorgeous."

She knew what she was--short, unfortunately red-haired, and big-eared. "Thank you," she said, for the compliment had been honestly meant (even if she still thought he was delusional regarding her supposed attractiveness.)

"I never thought a lady like you have time for a nobody like me." His eyes seemed very bright in the dim light of the brazier.

"I am not a lady, Kíli." He chuckled and she felt her ear-tips turning pink as she realized how it had sounded. "Not a noblewoman, I mean. Not in any way that matters, anyway."

"What do you mean? How can you be noble in a way that doesn't matter?"

"Technically I am the Clan Mother of _Eregnoss_. But it's entirely meaningless, since I'm the only remaining member of my clan."

"How did your clan die? I mean, um, if you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind your curiosity, Kíli. I was only an infant when it happened." Spotting a crate sitting in a corner of the balcony, Tauriel pulled it over so that she could sit and talk to Kíli without him needing to crane his neck.

"The first thing that you must understand is that the River Gate was not always the eastern border to the Forest Realm. Several hundred years ago King Thranduil pulled the eastern border back from the northwestern shores of the Long Lake. My mother's clan refused to leave their homes and their hunting lands. King Thranduil declared that he would not force them to move, but neither would he extend his protection to them. A few years later, a raiding party of Orcs and Wargs came down from Mount Gundabad and slaughtered every one of them. I was the only survivor," she said, looking away across the water.

"How did you survive?"

She shrugged, keeping her eyes focused on the distant glimmer of moonlight on the lake. "The Forest Guards who found me think my mother sacrificed herself to keep me safe. I was found hidden high in the treetops, where the branches are too thin and light for even a giant spider to reach. They thought my mother must have hidden me as high as she could reach and then led the Orcs and Wargs away to hide my scent."

"I'm so sorry."

"I don't remember her at all. They didn't know what my name was, so they called me _Tauriel_ , which means "Daughter of the Forest." King Thranduil took me in and raised me in the royal court. Not out of the kindness of his heart, you understand, but because it was politically advantageous," she said, meeting his dark eyes. "There has been unrest among the clans from time to time. It helped increase the goodwill of his Silvan subjects that he had taken in a tragically orphaned baby girl, the sole survivor of a Silvan clan, and raised her alongside his own son."

"So was your mother the leader of the clan?"

"There is no way to know. But as I am the only surviving female member of the clan, it falls to me by default. Meaningless though it may be."

Kíli nodded slowly, seeming to digest the new information. His brow wrinkled as he asked, "Wait, so this happened several hundred years ago? How old are you?"

"Just a little over six hundred years old. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Tauriel, I'm _seventy-seven_."

"Oh, by the Lord and Lady." She felt a little nauseated. "Are you even considered an adult by your people?"

"Yes!" Kíli yelped. "Yes, I'm an adult Dwarf. I can sign contracts and everything, I assure you."

Thinking to tease him, she said, "I don't know that I believe you. A Dwarf without a full beard--you might very well be as young as my apprentice."

To her surprise, Kíli looked upset and hurt at her words. He jerked his leg off the stool it had rested on and tried to stand, making a pained sound and falling back onto his chair as his leg failed to support his weight. 

Tauriel crouched in front of him, putting her hands on his arms to steady him. His shoulders going stiff, Kíli looked away from her, scowling.

" _Goheno nin_!" She shook her head, making a frustrated noise as she realized that she had spoken in Sindarin. "Forgive me, Kíli, I meant no harm. I thought only to tease you. I did not mean to offer you insult."

"It's fine," he said, though the look on his face said it was not fine at all. "We must all seem like children to you."

"No, it's not--it is not like that at all." She sat back on her heels, running her hand distractedly through her hair as she tried to think of a way to explain it. "I am still young for one of my kind. Time does not pass the same way for Elves as it does for Dwarves or Men. I do not feel as if I am that much older than you. I certainly do not feel wise or...or _above_ you in any way."

"You're young?" He sounded skeptical, but his body was no longer strung tight with anger.

She nodded, smiling up at him. "There was talk when I was made Captain of the Forest Guard that I was too young for my position, that King Thranduil favored me overmuch. I have spent the past fifty years striving to prove that I am not the mere child that some still think me."

"You, a child?" He shook his head wonderingly. "You are no child. You're one of the finest warriors I've ever seen and you are...very beautiful," he said, reaching out a hand to touch the lock of hair that fell in front of her ear.

Tauriel's breath caught and she saw Kíli's eyes widen. She knelt up at the same time as he leaned in and their lips touched lightly, a bare kiss. She pulled back a little and met his eyes, still holding her breath.

"Is this...?" he asked.

"Yes," she said on an exhale, leaning back in to meet his lips again.

He cupped the side of her face with his hand, feeling as burning hot as a brand in the cold night. His lips were firmer than an Elf's, but not rough. He kissed patiently, slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. Tauriel was surprised to find herself pushing impatiently into the kiss, sliding her arms around his waist and gripping the back of his tunic. 

With him sitting on the chair and her kneeling, the height difference was entirely erased and she found herself pulling him closer to her. He smelled different to an Elf, musky and faintly metallic, but she did not find it unpleasant at all. 

Kíli caressed her hair with his free hand, carding his fingers through the long strands. She slid a hand up his back to his shoulder, admiring the feeling of the muscle shifting under his coat. Elves were built slender and willowy; the blocky muscle of a Dwarf felt strange to her, but she found that she liked it very much.

One of his fingers grazed the very tip of her ear and she shuddered, making a faint noise at the back of her throat. Kíli made an answering sound that she would have to describe as a growl and deepened the kiss, exploring the seam of her lips with his tongue. She had never kissed with tongues before (her previous kissing experience being limited to practice kissing with agemates as an adolescent) but she caught on quickly. The world faded away for a while as they kissed.

At last they drew apart, leaning foreheads together as they caught their breath. She opened her eyes (she had not actually realized that she had closed them) and saw that Kíli was smiling at her softly. "I did not realize that a kiss could be so..."

His eyebrows quirked. "Have you never been kissed before?"

"Not like that." She shook her head quickly, trying to organize her thoughts. "You are distracting me. I came to find you for a reason."

"That's terrible, that I'm distracting you. Really. I probably shouldn't do it anymore..."

Laughing, he drew her back in and they kissed again as the wind shifted, pushing snowflakes into the covered balcony that hissed faintly as they melted on the brazier. Huge, soft snowflakes dusted Kíli's hair and glinted like little stars as they kissed in their quiet, cozy refuge. 

Across the lake a Dragon lurked and an unknown future awaited them, but for now, just for now, nothing at all mattered but this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> ada - father  
> mellon nin - my friend  
> Eregnoss - Holly-Tree Clan  
> goheno nin - forgive me
> 
> ***
> 
> notes: The backstory I gave for Tauriel is entirely a product of my imagination. What we know from interviews is that she is a 600-year-old Silvan Elf, a Guard Captain, has been favored by Thranduil, and her name means "Daughter of the Forest." If it seems unlikely that Tauriel should be an orphaned Silvan Elf princess-equivalent, consider that the Fellowship of the Ring included the hereditary King of Gondor and Arnor, the heir to the Steward of Gondor, an Elven prince, a Dwarven noble, the future Master of Buckland, and the future Thain of the Shire. I'm just following Tolkien's example in this, really.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a bit of medical ickiness. I'm not buying that all Oin would do to try to help Kíli would be to bathe his wound without even taking his trousers off to examine the puncture site.
> 
> As it happens, this is the one-year anniversary of me posting the first chapter of this story (there was a several-months-long hiatus in the middle.) Cheers!

Pulling away from the kiss at last, Tauriel brushed a few snowflakes from Kíli's dark, tangled hair. "You've distracted me from my purpose in coming here."

He grinned at her. "I could distract you some more?"

"No, this is important. We need to talk about it. Kíli!" she chided as he darted in to press a quick kiss against her lips.

"I'm listening," he said, holding his hands out. She slid her hands into his and they rested on his knees as they talked.

"I need to speak to you about your uncle's quest and the dragon."

"What of it?"

"There is a prophecy that if the King Under the Mountain returns, Lake-Town will burn."

"What?" After Tauriel recited the prophecy Bard had told her, Kíli frowned and said, "Just because some Man came up with a poem and called it a prophecy doesn't mean it's really going to happen."

"Bard says that the prophecy dates from the founding of Lake-Town after the destruction of Dale."

"Oh, well if _Bard_ says it, it must be true." Kíli shook his head, pulling his hands from her hold and crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't understand how important this Quest is to us. It's not about sneaking in and grabbing some gold. It's about getting our home back."

"I do, I do understand how important it is, but Kíli--does your uncle have a plan to deal with Smaug? The dragon still slumbers within the ruins of Erebor."

"The dragon is probably dead. No one's seen any sign of it in sixty years."

"Not according to Bard. He says a few brave souls have gotten close enough to see that the dragon's smoke still streams from the front entrance."

"Could be a coal fire," Kíli shrugged. "Those things can burn for decades if a seam catches on fire."

"Would you at least agree to talk to your uncle? If Smaug is still alive and if he awakens and attacks Lake-Town, the whole city will burn."

"You don't understand what you're asking of me." He stood up abruptly and then wavered, his injured leg appearing to be on the verge of buckling. 

Tauriel leapt to her feet and put her hands on his shoulders to steady him. "Has Oin taken another look at your wound? Are you still feverish?"

"I'm fine." He shrugged off her hands and stood on his own, though his face looked pale and pinched with effort. "Trust me, this weak, lowly mortal has survived worse. I don't need your help. It's like Thorin always says, Elves think they know better than everyone else--" 

"That is unfair."

"Maybe so. But let me tell you this, we're going to enter Erebor tomorrow and when we do, we're going to find that Smaug is already dead. And then we're going to take back our home."

"Kíli..."

He shook his head, the anger flowing out of his posture and leaving him looking tired and sad. "Tauriel, I don't want to leave things like this. Just in case something happens... I don't want us to be angry at each other when I leave."

"I am not angry at you. I'm worried, for you and the rest of the Company as well as the people of Lake-Town."

"We can take care of ourselves. You'll see. It'll all work out. My uncle always has a plan."

Tauriel bit her tongue on the urge to tell him that from what she'd seen so far, all of his uncle's plans tended to end poorly for them. "Very well. I can see that there is no dissuading you from this quest.

"I promise you that I will come back to you." His eyes were very dark and earnest.

"I know that you will try. I should give you your runestone back."

"No, keep it."

"Which one of us is potentially facing a dragon tomorrow?" The cloak Bard had given her gave her enough cover to pull the runestone from her undertunic without giving Kíli an eyeful. After pulling the body-warmed stone from her bodice, she handed it to him carefully, her fingers lingering on his.

Kíli cupped it between his hands reverently. "I can feel you in the stone now."

"What?"

"Dwarves can read stones," he said, as if that was obvious. "I can feel my mother's love in the stone--that's strongest of course, since she carved it--but you carried it next to your heart. I can feel you on it, even though it's faint."

"Really? I did not know that Dwarves could feel the stone that way."

"You can't?"

"No. I can hear the speech of the trees, but stone is just stone to me." A crash followed by a chorus of laughter sounded from inside the house. "I should go. Be careful, Kíli."

They kissed again, slowly and sweetly. Breaking the kiss, she leaned her forehead against his. "And if there is a live dragon in there..."

"Yes?"

"Try not to make it angry."

***

Bard was still sitting up by the banked fireplace when Tauriel returned to the house, nursing a mug of something faintly steaming between his hands. She could hear the quiet whispers of Bard's children and her apprentice from one of the two bedrooms in the house. They probably thought they were being subtle about staying up talking long past midnight.

"How did it go?" Bard's tone of voice did not sound like he had high expectations of her success.

Tauriel sat in the chair on the other side of the fireplace, curling her legs underneath her. "I was unsuccessful. Kíli would not even consider the possibility that Thorin Oakenshield's quest might end in disaster."

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "It was a slim chance to begin with, I guess."

"Is there nothing that we can do to protect your townspeople if Smaug comes?"

Bard's quiet laughter had a harsh edge to it. "There is one causeway to the shore and all of the watergates except for the tollgate have been closed by order of the Master. Only one way out of a city made of wooden buildings. If the beast awakens, we are all doomed."

"Then we will open the watergates. You were stockpiling those weapons for a reason, and I would say that reason has come. The Master's odious little man was terrified of a general uprising. Let us give it to him, and save your town at the same time."

"When you say it like that, I can almost believe that it's possible."

"Die by dragon flames or die by the sword," she said. "Either way, I will die doing what is right."

He stared at her for a few moments. "You are a dangerous woman, Tauriel of Mirkwood," he breathed.

"I have spent six hundred years doing nothing while my forest dies slowly and my King refuses to look beyond our ever-shrinking borders. I will not be a passive observer to injustice ever again."

Bard slowly began to smile. "There is one ace in the hole that I hadn't told you about yet. Did you happen to overhear the story the Dwarf told of my ancestor the Lord of Dale and the Black Arrows?"

"Yes, but the arrows were all lost that day, were they not?"

"Not all of them, my lady Elf. There is one Black Arrow that remains."

"If we can get the watergates opened so that your people can evacuate the city _and_ get you to the top of the wind-lance tower..."

Bard and Tauriel shared a triumphant smile. "We can save them. We can save everyone."

The Master had announced that there would be a grand send-off for the Dwarves the next morning. They spent the remainder of the night working out a plan to unbar as many watergates as possible while the Master, his guards, and most of the townsfolk were distracted.

"This will not work, though," Bard said, looking frustrated. "In order to break the lock on the water-gates, one of us would need to be fully submerged and that water is near to freezing."

"You can safely leave that part to me." She chuckled at his skeptical look. "I could go swimming in the lake right now if you need proof. Elves are not affected by the cold."

"I have to admit that I think it more than a little unfair when the advantages of the races are compared. Elves have strength, grace, resilience, _and_ immortality? We Men certainly got the short end of the stick."

"Immortality is not always the blessing you might imagine. Not when the people you care for are fated to die while you continue on alone."

"Ah," Bard breathed as if a question had just been answered. "It's the young, dark-haired Dwarf, isn't it?"

She looked up at him, surprised.

"You two weren't nearly as subtle as you thought."

"Yes," she said on a sigh. "I know that it is impossible and foolish, but yes."

Looking pensive, Bard poured another cup of dark, spicy tea. "My wife was the daughter of a wealthy merchant. I never thought that she would even look at a poor bargeman like me. But we fell in love and got married despite her family's objections. We had ten years together and three beautiful children. She always told me that she was far happier in our humble little home than she would have been as a pampered Society wife."

"I am very sorry for your loss." She nodded to him respectfully, placing a clenched fist over her heart. "But I do not entirely understand why..."

"Why I would tell a near-stranger this? Because it may have been impossible and foolish, but in the end it was the best thing either of us could have done. It was worth it."

"Thank you, Bard. That...helps...to hear."

Bard nodded to her and they stood a moment in silence, looking down at the rough map of the town and letting the quiet of long-past-midnight seep into them. "Now, let's look at the plans for the East watergate again. I had a thought about the best route to use..."

***

"The lock was corroded on this one," Tauriel said as soon as her head popped up out of the icy water. She registered too late that there was a city guard standing next to Bard on the walkway. Three watergates they had opened without encountering a single soul, but apparently on the last one their luck had finally run out.

The two men stared down at her with an expression of chagrin (Bard) and astonishment (the guard.)

"What are you doing, Bard?" the guard asked.

"Is there any way I could talk you into forgetting that you saw this?"

Bard seemed tense but not panicked, so Tauriel stayed where she was for the moment. 

"That would depend on what I am forgetting. Why are you tampering with the watergate?"

"Nasim, you know how the prophecy goes as well as I do. _The lake shall shine and burn_. I know everyone wants to forget that part and focus on the rivers of gold, but neither of us is the type to ignore danger just because it's inconvenient."

"All right, I'm listening." The guard crossed his arms over his burly chest. His long, black beard was braided nearly as elaborately as the Dwarves', unusual for the Men of Lake-Town that Tauriel had seen so far.

She pulled herself up out of the water and onto the walkway, wringing out her hair absently as she listened.

"The King Under the Mountain goes to reclaim Erebor today, disregarding whether they will awaken the dragon. Lake-Town has no defenses if Smaug awakes. The city is made of wood, there is one causeway to the shore, and one functioning watergate. If they awaken that beast, it will kill us all."

The guard rubbed a hand over his mouth, frowning. "You really believe that the Dwarves will awaken the dragon."

"I am absolutely certain of it."

The guard paused for a long moment, meeting Bard's eyes. "Then I will trust you, Bard. I know you are not a foolish or incautious man. I have men in the Guard who I absolutely trust. I will call in a few favors and have them assigned to the patrols that cover the watergates. If Smaug awakens, they will open the watergates."

"Thank you, Nasim. I swear to you that you will not regret it."

"I shall hold you to that." Smiling, the guard bowed to Tauriel. "My lady Elf."

"Guardsman," she answered with a nod. She had given up on explaining that she was not in fact nobility.

"One of these days, if we all survive this, you will have to tell me the story of how you came to be working with an Elf lady," the guard said, clapping Bard on the shoulder.

"It's quite a story."

"I look forward to hearing it." 

Bard and Tauriel watched the guard walk away. "Do you trust him?" she asked quietly.

Bard nodded. "We've had our differences over the years, but Nasim is an honorable man. I trust he will do as he says. Now, since that was the last of the watergates, how about we get you home and into dry clothing before you catch your death of cold."

"It is not that cold," she said, wrapping the cloak around herself again as they began to walk.

"You have icicles forming on the ends of your hair," Bard said, looking at her sidelong with one of his half-smiles. "I'm freezing to death just looking at you."

***

Tauriel was sitting by the fire, dressed in warm clothing borrowed from Sigrid and drinking hot tea when the knock came at the door. Bard and Tauriel looked at each other in alarm. 

"The Master's men?" she murmured.

"I don't know. Bain, you and your sisters and the Elf boy get ready to make a run for it if we need to."

"Yes, Da," the boy said, looking terrified but determined as the four children gathered by the stairs that led down to the lower landing of the house.

Tauriel stood out of the line of sight of the door while Bard opened it. 

"Go away," Bard said as soon as he opened the door. 

She could not see who stood outside but she recognized Fíli's voice immediately. "Please, we need your help."

"I'm done with Dwarves," Bard snapped. 

Tauriel stepped into the doorway, seeing Fíli facing off against Bard while a sickly pale Kíli was supported on both sides by Bofur and Oin. "Kíli? Fíli, what has happened to him?"

Bofur was the one who answered. "Kíli's sick, Tauriel. He's very sick."

"No one will help us," Fíli said.

Tauriel turned to Bard, who looked deeply conflicted. "Bard, please. They do not deserve to be punished for your anger against Thorin Oakenshield."

The Man sighed. "Come in, then. Before I think better of it." The Dwarves rushed to comply.

Kíli's eyes were blurry with pain and his skin was slick with cold sweat. He smiled at her, looking dazed, as they put him down on a pallet in front of the fire. " _Gimlinh_ ," he said in a low, raspy voice.

Tauriel looked to Fíli. "What did he just say?"

Fíli exchanged a look with Bofur. "I can't tell you that. Sorry."

"It's not a bad thing, though. It's actually very sweet." Bofur winked at her.

"I need boiled water and plenty of rags," Oin said, kneeling next to Kíli's injured leg. Cirdolas and Bard's older daughter hurried to fetch clean water to boil.

"You, Elf," Oin said to Tauriel. "Do you have any training as a Healer?"

She enunciated clearly, being sure to speak while looking directly at him in case he used lip-reading to fill in the gaps in his hearing. "Just basic training, I'm afraid. How to deal with injuries in the field, that sort of thing."

The elderly Dwarf squinted at her suspiciously and then nodded, grunting. "That will have to do. Help me get his trousers off. I can't help him if I can't see the injury."

"Oin!" Bofur looked scandalized. "She's a lady."

"Will you faint at the sight of a pair of hairy legs?" Oin asked her. Not waiting for a reply, he added, "No? Good. Let's get his boots off."

Kíli was barely conscious, his eyes open a mere slit, but he still smiled at Tauriel as she helped pull his trousers off. "Couldn't wait to get into my trousers, eh?" Tauriel's ear-tips turned bright red at Fíli's smothered laughter.

They cut off the right leg of Kíli's long underwear above the arrow wound. Pulling the blood-soaked fabric off revealed a deep puncture wound with blackened flesh around it and red lines of infection running up and down his leg. Tauriel and Fíli both sucked in a deep breath at the sight. 

Oin frowned at the wound thoughtfully. "Did you see the arrow that hit him?" he asked Tauriel. "What kind of arrow was it?"

"It looked much like a normal arrow, except that the shaft was some black metal that I'd never seen before. It burnt my hands as I pulled it out of Kíli's thigh. Not a hot burn, a cold burn, like metal that's been outside in the depths of winter."

Oin shook his head. "That is not good. Not good at all. Kíli, lad, are you with us?"

Kíli held his hand out towards Tauriel insistently until she held hands with him. "I'm with you. What is it?"

"I need to look at your eyes. Open your eyes, lad."

Kíli blinked his eyes open wide, staring up at Oin as if he couldn't quite see him properly. His normally deep brown eyes were filmed over with a faint blue tinge. 

"'S dark in here," he murmured. His eyes flickered and then he looked, unfocused but smiling widely, up at Tauriel. " _Gimlinh_ , _ursinh_. You are so beautiful. Why are you glowing?" he murmured before his eyes slid closed again, hiding the unsettling blue glaze.

"Oh no, no," Tauriel breathed. 

"Why does he think you're glowing?" Fíli demanded.

She smoothed Kíli's tangled hair back from his forehead. "Because he is close enough to death that he has begun to see the spirit world."

"What can we do to help him? Oin, there must be something."

The old healer looked grim. "We will need kingsfoil if your brother is to survive the night."

"Kingsfoil?" The name was unfamiliar to Tauriel, but she had a sudden insight into what he might mean. "Do you mean _athelas_? Small white flowers, dark green, oval-shaped leaves? Grows at the base of oak trees?" 

"That's the one."

"Kingsfoil?" Bard called from the kitchen area. "We use that as pig feed."

"Aye?" Oin asked. "I'll wager your pigs are the healthiest creatures in the city. I need at least one bunch. More if you can get it." 

"I'll get it!" Bofur said.

"Bain, go with him, you know the way. Old Istvan's pig pen is probably closest," Bard said.

"Yes, Da." Bain and Bofur hurried off together.

Sigrid brought over a pot of boiling water and Oin dunked his hands into it without reacting in any way to the heat. "Hold him down. I need to examine the wound."

Kíli thrashed and struggled as Fíli and Tauriel held him down, screaming raggedly as Oin pressed into the blackened flesh around the puncture. "I'm not feeling any metal left in the wound."

"It looked like the arrow tip came out intact," Tauriel said.

"Well, that's one good thing in all of this. All right, lad. Rest easy now," Oin said at last, drawing his hands away and nodding that they could release him.

The tension immediately left Kíli's body and he fell still so quickly that Tauriel had to put a hand on his neck to feel his pulse just to be sure that he had not died. His heartbeat seemed fast to her, though she was not entirely sure what was normal for a Dwarf.

"How is he, Oin?" Fíli demanded. "Will he make it?"

"I cannot say. To tell you the truth, I do not know what ails your brother. I suspect dark magic." Oin washed his hands off in the pot of boiled water. "There is nothing more we can do without kingsfoil."

Oin stomped away, demanding from Bard whether the Men of Lake-Town had any decent pipe-weed.

Left alone, Fíli and Tauriel looked at each other over Kíli's unconscious body. "Can you heal him?" Fíli's voice was rough with urgency.

She hesitated, biting her lip. "I am not a trained healer."

"But can you do it? Can you help him?"

"All Elves have the intrinsic ability to heal the _fae_ and _rhaw_ \--the soul and body." She added quickly at Fíli's growl of triumph, "But what you must understand is that it could be dangerous. I am untrained and what is more, I am a warrior." 

His eyebrows wrinkled. "What does that have to do with it?"

"I have taken life. Many lives. My connection to my healing powers isn't..." she paused, trying to find the right word. "Pure. If I attempt to heal him there could be unexpected consequences. Or it might not work at all."

"You said we should use it only as a last resort. Well, this is our last resort--if you don't heal him, Kíli will die."

Tauriel met Fíli's pleading, desperate eyes for a long moment. She closed her eyes and inclined her head. "I swear to you, Fíli, whatever it takes, I will do my utmost to heal your brother."

"Thank you," he whispered.

At that moment there was a loud noise from outside and the house shook. Fíli and Tauriel rushed to the front porch, followed closely by Cirdolas, Sigrid, and Tilda. Oin and Bard had already been on the porch smoking.

"It definitely came from the Mountain," Bard said. "I warned Thorin son of Thrain that his quest would waken the dragon. Now Lake-Town stands undefended in the path of fiery doom."

"Da?" the younger girl quavered. Bard opened his arms and she flew to him and hugged him tightly, hiding her face in his coat.

"Nasim said that his men would open the watergates if Smaug came," Tauriel said. "The town may be doomed, but your people may not be."

Bard nodded. "I only pray that Nasim's men are as honorable as he is. I must get to to the wind-lance tower before the dragon comes. That is our only hope to kill the beast."

"I will come with you," she said, though her heart ached at the thought of leaving Kíli behind.

"No, my lady. Your love stands on the brink of death. I'll not ask you to leave him."

"I'll go," Fíli said. "You need someone to watch your back, might as well be me."

"Very well," Bard said with a keen-eyed glance.

As Bard led the way down the steps holding the Black Arrow, Fíli caught Tauriel's hand in his. "Please, for the love we both bear him, save my brother."

"I swear to you that as long as there is breath left in my body, I will try."

Fíli met her eyes for a long moment and then nodded to her, squaring his shoulders as he followed Bard away. Tauriel watched until they disappeared into the shadowy streets and then turned to go inside.

In the distance, the mountain trembled at the roar of the Dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> gimlinh - star-lady  
> ursinh - fire-lady


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a tiny bit of medical ickiness.

Returning to Kíli's side, Tauriel found Oin bathing his forehead with water so cold that the pot still had a skim of ice around the edges.

"The lad's fever is rising. I hope Bard's boy and Bofur return with kingsfoil soon or else I fear that Kíli's body will burn up from the inside."

"Tell me what I can do to help." Tauriel followed Oin's instructions, helping him to bathe Kíli's face and pulse points with the icy water. Dwarves must have a higher natural body temperature than Elves, she thought, because she was fairly sure an Elf would already be on the verge of death at the temperature Kíli's skin felt.

"Never thought I'd have an Elf as an assistant healer," the old Dwarf mused after a while.

Hoping that his attitude towards her had softened enough that he might answer her question, Tauriel asked, "How is it that the four of you did not go to the Lonely Mountain with the rest of the Company?"

"Thorin judged Kíli's condition to be too poor for him to endure a forced march. I stayed behind to care for my patient. Fíli stayed behind because he may be a damned stubborn fool, but he's a loyal one. He refused to leave his brother's side."

"And Bofur?"

"Woke up under a table still drunk from the night before and missed the boat." Despite the grimness of the situation, they both smiled at the thought.

Tauriel could imagine that Kíli's pride must have been stung fiercely at being left behind. Still, she had to agree that his leg would not have stood up to a long march. Better he stay in Lake-Town, where there was some hope of shelter and care, than to risk falling deathly ill in the middle of the dragon's desolation.

After a time, Kíli's fever dropped again and he settled into a natural-seeming sleep. Cirdolas offered to sit with Kíli and watch him so that Tauriel and Oin could take a break. Reluctantly, Tauriel did so after making him promise to call for her if there was any change in Kíli's condition whatsoever.

Sigrid and Tilda were in the midst of packing up the little family's belongings. Restless and unable to sit still, Tauriel made herself useful by helping pack clothing into oilcloth rucksacks. 

"Da told us to flee if the dragon comes," Sigrid said. "That's why I'm packing everything up. He said he'd come find us on the shore after."

Tilda piped up, "Do you think he will, Elf lady?"

Diplomatically, she responded, "I believe that your father will find you if it is at all possible."

"I know he will," Sigrid said with a bright smile at her sister. "Don't worry, Da's tough. That old dragon won't know what hit it."

Tauriel helped Sigrid carry the rucksacks filled with their belongings down to the landing below the house. She hadn't noticed before, but there was a shed attached to the walkway at the water level next to the house. 

Sigrid unlocked the door of the shed and pulled it open, revealing a boat somewhat smaller than the barge. Instead of a mast, it had two long paddles hooked to its sides. It had a narrow front end, widening into a flattened teardrop shape, and a flat bottom. She thought that it would fit all of them without any difficulty. It looked like the type of boat that had been designed to carry cargo quickly and quietly.

Sigrid started piling rucksacks neatly into the boat. "Da used to take this skiff out a lot at night, before the Master ordered the water-gates closed. Tilda doesn't know, but Bain and I think Da used to be a smuggler."

Tauriel remembered the crates of unlabeled bottles in the smuggler's hideaway under the deck of Bard's barge. She was fairly sure Bard still had a side-business in smuggling, but it wasn't her place to reveal that. "Well, whatever the reason was, it's a good thing you have this skiff. It would be difficult to leave town quickly in your father's barge."

After they finished loading the boat and Sigrid locked the shed behind them, she paused for a moment before going back up the stairs. "My lady Elf, if things go poorly after the dragon comes, could you promise me one thing? Do what you can to get Tilda out. Bain and I can look after ourselves but Tilda is just little."

Tauriel looked at her closely. The relative age of Men was difficult for her to judge, but Sigrid and Bain did not look full-grown to her. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen. Bain's two years younger than me, even if he does try to pretend he's the one in charge when Da's not here."

Only seventeen. A mere child in Elven terms, but she saw in the girl's eyes a wisdom and maturity far beyond her years. "I promise that I will do what I can to protect your sister." 

"I'd be in your debt for sure." Sigrid shivered as the wind gusted. "We'd best get inside. It's bitter cold out here. And you out here in just my old dress, with no coat!" Tauriel hadn't even noticed the cold.

Checking with Cirdolas, she found that Kíli's condition was unchanged. He moved restlessly but seemed unconscious of his surroundings. From time to time he would ramble in the Dwarven language mixed with Westron into seemingly meaningless strings of words. Unable to stand sitting idle, she took over wiping Kíli's pulse points with ice water again. 

She didn't realize that she had begun to sing quietly until Kíli's eyes blinked open. They were still hazed over unsettlingly with blue.

"That's pretty," he said in a raspy whisper. "What's it mean?"

"It is a children's teaching song, about the trees and the plants of the Greenwood. It is very old." So old that many of the lyrics referred to plants that no longer thrived under Mirkwood's dark canopy.

"You're still glowing. So bright... I almost can't look at you."

"I..." Tauriel felt tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. The closer he was to passing out of this world and into the next, the brighter the _fae_ of an Elf would look to him. "Rest easy now, Kíli. All will be well."

Part of the roof gave way with a cracking noise and an Orc burst into the house. Sigrid and Tilda screamed as more Orcs broke down the front door and came crashing through the windows.

Tauriel snatched up a boathook from the pile of weapons the Dwarves had rejected and laid about with it, keeping the creatures away from Kíli. She was proud to see that Cirdolas had grabbed a modified blacksmith hammer and was forcing the Orcs back from the table where Sigrid and Tilda had taken refuge. Fighting alongside him was Oin, proving that even an elderly Dwarven warrior was a force to be reckoned with. 

But the Orcs kept coming. It seemed that for every Orc that they killed, another two took its place. Tauriel was forced to fight defensively, backing up until she was almost on top of Kíli's pallet. These must be the Orcs from the river-gate in Mirkwood, but why had they pursued the Dwarves so relentlessly?

Legolas jumped down through the roof and landed on the kitchen table, looking around quickly to gauge the situation.

" _Mellon nin_!" Tauriel called. 

"Tauriel," he said with a quick smile, tossing a bundle of fabric with a few hilts sticking out of it towards her. She caught the bundle, which turned out to be her knives and bow wrapped in her armor and tunic. 

Pulling the knives out of the bundle, Tauriel immediately used them to separate an Orc's head from its shoulders. "Legolas, you are late! We nearly had them on the run."

He laughed, throwing her a quick smile. It was like old times again, the two of them working together to kill Orcs like a single creature made of two parts.

There was shouting from outside, something in their brutish language which Tauriel thought must be an order to retreat. Every Orc still capable of movement fled from the house all at once.

"Come, Tauriel," Legolas said in Sindarin as he moved to the doorway, clearly confident that she would follow.

"I cannot," she responded in the same language as she crossed the room to stand before him.

Legolas turned to face her. "Do not be foolish, friend of my heart," he said, his tone pleading. "My father may forgive you if you return with me, but there will be no returning to the Forest Realm if you stay with these Dwarves. He will exile you if you continue in this insanity."

"It is not insanity. Legolas, I am finally doing something right. Helping people, not hiding behind our ever-shrinking borders and ignoring the plight of the rest of the world as your father would have us do."

He looked stricken, his eyes widening for a second before they narrowed with anger. "You are speaking nonsense. Meanwhile the Orcs are escaping. Cirdolas!" he snapped. 

Cirdolas jumped. "Yes, my prince?" His eyes were huge.

"Your father wishes you to return to the Forest Realm. Will you come?"

Gulping, Cirdolas shook his head. "No, your highness. Tauriel is my _herdir_. I will not leave her."

Legolas inclined his head. "The bond of apprentice and _herdir_ is sacred. You may stay if that is your choice. Tauriel," he said, looking into her eyes, his voice soft and for her ears only. "I do not understand. Why would you turn your back on your people this way?"

"If you do not understand I am not sure I can explain it to you. The world outside the forest needs us. My fate is entwined with these Dwarves."

Legolas's face turned closed-off and cold. "Stay here, then, and I wish you much joy of it," he said with a bitter twist to his mouth as his eyes swept over the pallet where Kíli lay.

The anger in Legolas's eyes made her heart hurt. "Goodbye, _mellon nin_."

With a final, accusing look, Legolas left to pursue the Orcs.

"Legolas--" She stepped out onto the porch to watch him leave, torn despite herself at the thought of letting Legolas go into battle without her. She was just in time to watch him vault the railing over Bain and Bofur's heads.

Bofur and Bain stared after him in shock. 

"What was he doing here? What's been going on here?" Bofur asked as they came up the steps and he took in the state of the house.

"The Orc pack followed us from Mirkwood. Did you get the _athelas_?"

They held up two bunches, grinning triumphantly. "Aye, Bain here had to wrestle a pig to get it, but get it we did!'

Finally, some good news. She prayed that it was not too late.

Oin's approach to healing the wound seemed unnaturally invasive to her, but she bowed to his knowledge of Dwarven biology. He would cut away the blackened, dead flesh from the wound and then pack the wound with _athelas_ as she channeled healing power into it.

They placed Kíli on the kitchen table, his head pillowed on a sack of flour. She had to turn away during Oin's part of the healing. Elves did not cut into the body to heal and it turned her stomach to watch it. 

"All right, lass, the wound is ready. Do your part."

Tauriel took a deep breath. She had not been exaggerating when she had told Fíli that this should be a last resort. She knew there were great healers who were also warriors, such as Lord Elrond of Imladris. However, they were specifically trained to deal with the effects that taking life had on their connection to their powers. She had no such training.

Closing her eyes, she reached deep inside herself, to the glowing heart of the star inside her soul. She looked down at Kíli with eyes full of power and could see the dark corruption spreading through his bloodstream from the wound. Calling upon the Valar to pass the blessing that had been given to her onto Kíli, she pressed her hands over the _athelas_ -packed wound.

At first she thought that it would not work at all, that her lack of training and the darkness in her soul left from centuries of killing in her King's service would prevent her from reaching her healing powers. But as she continued to chant the power wakened in her slowly, channeling down her hands and into Kíli's body.

She could feel the power passing from her into him, more and more power, pulling energy from her soul until she wanted to scream from the pain. She kept up the chant with an act of supreme effort. It felt like a piece of her soul was being ripped apart.

At last the flood of energy pouring out of her ebbed and fell to a mere trickle. Tauriel's head fell forward and she gasped, panting for air.

"Tauriel?" Kíli's voice was hoarse.

"I am here," she whispered. Her throat felt like she had been screaming for hours.

Kíli's eyes blinked open. He looked terribly weary, but there was no trace of the disturbing blue glaze over his oak-brown eyes. "My lady who walks among the stars, my beautiful fire-crowned lady." He raised a hand with an effort, cupping his palm over her cheek. "Are you well, _gimlinh_?"

She could feel the tears slipping down her cheeks but could not stop them. "I am well, _melui nin_." She felt her ear-tips turning bright red and corrected herself, " _Mellon nin_."

"I'm glad," he said, smiling widely. His eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out.

Tauriel put a hand on Kíli's chest, feeling his strong, steady breathing. She let out a breath that felt like she had been holding it for hours and sagged, barely catching herself on the edge of the table.

"Never thought I'd have the chance to watch Elvish healing up close. Oh, do I have questions and theories... But enough of that for now," Oin said. "Go sit down, lass. You look like that fair took it out of you."

"Thank you. I...I need fresh air." The little house suddenly felt stiflingly hot to her. Bofur offered her a shoulder to rest her hand on as she walked. After a brief struggle with her pride she accepted his help.

They walked out onto the front porch. The cold wind felt like a blessing from the Valar. Tauriel rested her hands on the porch railing, staring unfocused out over the city to the Lonely Mountain, faintly visible in the moonlight.

"Quite a sight, ain't it," Bofur mused quietly. "Didn't think it'd be so big, d'you know what I mean like? Always thought they were exaggerating--Did you see that?"

A bright, golden light flickered on the face of the mountain, quickly ascending into the air. Bofur and Tauriel exchanged a look of dawning fear.

"Was that--you reckon that was the dragon?"

"I fear it could be nothing else."

The answer came several seconds later as a roar echoed over the lake like the sound of distant thunder.

"The dragon is awake!" Bofur cried as they rushed into the house. 

"We must evacuate," Tauriel said. "Sigrid, Bain, grab Tilda and get the boatshed open. Cirdolas, go with them. I will carry Kíli." She blinked hard and swayed on her feet as a sudden wave of exhaustion hit her. 

"You'll be carrying no one, you're close to passing out on your feet." Oin snapped his fingers at Cirdolas. "You! Elfling! Help your mistress down to the boat. Bofur and I will carry Kíli."

The next several minutes were a blur. She was aware of Cirdolas wrapping his arm around her waist and encouraging her to put an arm around his shoulders before helping her down the stairs. Then nothing until she slowly came back to herself sitting on the bottom of the skiff next to Kíli, who still appeared to be unconscious.

She tried to sit up but her muscles wouldn't obey her. She felt unbearably weak, like she had just been poisoned by a giant spider. Without her conscious volition, Tauriel slid to the side until she ended up leaning against Kíli.

The moment she touched him, the feeling of dizziness and faint wrongness went away. She still felt weak, but not as if she were about to lose consciousness. Kíli stirred and murmured, but did not waken.

The sounds of shouting, panicked people were all around them. What she could see from her position in the bottom of the boat was that Bain and Sigrid were standing and rowing with their long paddles on either side of the skiff. Oin and Bofur were huddled together towards the rear end of the narrow boat, looking deeply uncomfortable about being on the water. She knew from overhearing them talk during the barge ride that Dwarves were neither fond of water nor strong swimmers. Cirdolas was sitting against the opposite side of the skiff from Tauriel and Kíli with his arm wrapped around the shoulder of the younger girl, Tilda. She was curled up against him, hiding her face against his surcoat.

Tauriel forced herself to sit upright and break all physical contact with Kíli. He groaned in protest, though his eyes still did not open. She felt the dizziness come back in a rush along with a feeling of intense exhaustion.

"Oh, no," she whispered. She had worried that something would go wrong if she attempted to heal Kíli, untrained as she was. Her best guess was that the link between their spirits that she had formed to heal him had not dissipated as it should have. He appeared to be unconsciously pulling energy from her spirit to heal himself. She had no idea how to stop it.

For now, there was nothing that could be done. If they survived the night, she would worry about it then.

Tauriel shifted slowly, inch-by-inch, until Kíli sat propped against her. She wrapped her arms around his chest. If worst came to worst and the boat sank, in his current unconscious state he would sink like a stone and drown in moments. At least this way she could try to keep his head above water.

The screaming and shouting around them intensified a moment before there was a noise like thunder and a gust of hot, burnt-smelling air. She caught a glimpse of a huge red winged creature swooping above them through the gap between the buildings. 

"It's the dragon! Smaug is burning Lake-Town!" She heard the shout spread up and down the street.

"Can't this boat move any faster?" Bofur demanded. "We're sitting ducks in here!" 

"Where's Da?" Tilda asked in a high and tremulous voice.

Cirdolas hushed her, murmuring soothing nonsense. He looked up at Tauriel and she saw the fear in his eyes even as he assured Tilda that all would be well.

In Sindarin, she said, "Apprentice, promise me that if the boat sinks you will save her first. I swore to her sister that I would protect her, but I fear I will not be able to follow through on that promise." 

Cirdolas nodded solemnly. "I swear, Captain."

She smiled at him. "I am not your Captain anymore."

"You will always be my Captain."

"If we die tonight, I want you to know how proud I am of you, Cirdolas."

She saw the quick sheen of tears in his eyes before he blinked them fiercely away. "We are not doomed to die tonight, _Minui_. I promise you that."

There was a roaring noise as Smaug made another pass. She saw a building above the canal burst into flame, the fire spreading quickly from roof to roof. The skiff slowed to a stop.

"Open the water-gates!" Sigrid shouted. "Open them, or all these peoples' deaths will be on your hands!"

Tauriel could not see from her current position, but the city guard must have complied because the boat started moving again. 

The boat moved torturously slowly through the open water-gate. Tauriel sat up a little more, pulling Kíli up with her so that he continued to lean back against her chest. Now she could see that around them in the water there were a multitude of boats, ranging in size from tiny coracles to ships larger than Bard's barge. 

As the ragged flotilla of boats streamed out of the city onto the open lake, there was none of the shouting and screaming that they could still hear from the city. Instead, an eerie silence reigned. Each boat was crowded with people, holding onto one another silently in the red-tinted darkness. Here and there a child started crying and was quickly hushed. They were all of them, Tauriel saw, staring up into the night sky to the north of the city.

She followed their gazes upward and saw that Smaug must have just finished banking through a turn, far out over the dark waters of the lake. His wings beat strongly for a few minutes as he gained altitude, then they angled like a hawk stooping for a rabbit as he dived toward the burning town, gathering speed as he went.

"Look! Up on the wind-lance tower!" Bain cried, pointing. 

Sigrid stared in that direction, shielding her eyes from the ashes drifting in the air like snow. "Da! Is it Da?" 

The wind shifted, stoking the fires higher, and in the red glow Tauriel could clearly see Bard standing behind the Dwarven wind-lance on the top of the tower, the highest point in the city.

She felt Kíli stir where he sat leaning against her. "Tauriel? What is happening?"

"The dragon has come, Kíli--oh, Lord of the Hunt, lend to Bard your keen eyes--"

"Smaug!" Kíli breathed. "But if he is here, then what has happened to the Company?"

Smaug's great maw opened as he neared the wind-lance tower and his belly began to glow golden-red.

"No! Da!" Tilda screamed. Cirdolas had to hold onto her to keep her from leaping into the water.

The dragon back-winged, holding position in front of the wind-lance tower for a few beats of its massive wings. Horrifyingly, they could hear the creature laughing as its glowing jaws opened.

Then almost at the same moment as fire erupted from the dragon's maw, the wind-lance twanged and the Black Arrow, looking tiny as a dart from this distance, buried itself deep within the dragon's chest.

Smaug's whole body jerked in mid-air. With a deafening bellow, the dragon shot upward, spewing flames as it spiraled, until for a moment it seemed to freeze at the top of its arc. Then it began falling back to earth, its winged body limp as it fell from the night sky directly onto the burning town, shattering the remaining buildings of Lake-Town before sinking into the water.

A vast cloud of steam erupted as the dragon's glowing belly sank deep into the icy waters of the lake.

There were a few moments of utter silence as the people gathered in the boats stared at the wreck of their city. Then chaos erupted as they began screaming and shouting in mingled triumph and heartbreak

"Da! Da!" Tilda screamed, struggling against Cirdolas's hold. Sigrid and Bain wrapped their arms around both of them, crying, the children holding each other silhouetted against the burning wreck of the city.

"Where's Fíli?" Kíli asked desperately, struggling to sit upright. "Where is my brother?"

"He went with Bard to help him get to the wind-lance tower."

Kíli's eyes were wide and distressed as he grabbed her by her shoulders and demanded, "Was he there? Tauriel, did you see him on the tower?"

"No, I didn't see him at all."

His jaw firmed. "Well, that's a good sign though--if he wasn't on the tower, maybe he--" Kíli glanced at the children and lowered his voice so that they would not hear, "Maybe he got out of there before the dragon hit."

"It may be so. I pray that it is, and that Fíli will return to us safely. I am so sorry, Kíli."

With a harsh sound at the back of his throat, Kíli flung his arms around her, holding her tight as suppressed sobs shook his body.

In the distance, the city burned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> mellon nin - my friend  
> gimlinh - star-lady  
> fae - spirit (Sindarin term)  
> herdir - master  
> melui nin - my sweet  
> minui - first


	11. Chapter 11

It was a cold, grim trip to the lake shore, with the wind blowing the ashes of the burning town towards the solemn flotilla.

After an emotional discussion, they reluctantly agreed there was no way that they could go back into the burning city to search for Fíli and Bard that night. The dragon hadn't crushed the entire city as it had appeared at first, but between the flames and the danger of collapsing houses, Lake-Town would be a deathtrap for any would-be rescuers until the fires died down.

Kíli stared longingly at the city. "Dwarves are pretty fire-resistant, though. I think I could make it."

"In the dark, with the buildings still collapsing on your head? Don't be a damn fool, lad," Óin said, not unkindly.

Tauriel asked Sigrid if she wanted a break from rowing, but Sigrid shook her head with her mouth set grimly. "Do us good to have something to keep our minds occupied. 'Dolas, could you take Tilda again?"

Tilda attached herself to Cirdolas immediately, crying into his neck as he sat down with her and rubbed her back, murmuring soothingly in Sindarin. The little girl was so upset and exhausted that she fell asleep almost immediately, still clutching at his surcoat. Tauriel wasn't entirely sure what to make of Bard's little family adopting Cirdolas, but she thought that it was probably a good thing overall.

Sitting with their backs resting against the side of the boat again, Tauriel told Kíli quietly, "I'll go with you at first light. Elven eyes and ears are sharp. I can keep watch for collapsing buildings, and you can probably get closer to the flames than I can."

His smile was a wan and pale imitation of his usual wide grin. "Thank you, _gimlinh_."

During the conversation about whether they should search for Bard and Fíli that night, Tauriel had discovered that she could physically separate from Kíli without the dizziness and exhaustion that she had felt before. Now that Kíli was conscious, he no longer seemed to be drawing on her energy, though she could feel a bright thread connecting their spirits. It did not appear to be doing any immediate harm, so she put it out of her mind for the moment.

Their height difference was minimized when they were sitting next to each other. Tauriel had the long legs of a typical Elf but Dwarves had proportionally longer torsos and shorter legs. She could probably rest her head on his shoulder without needing to slouch very much. She bit her lip, unsure whether that would be too forward. 

They had kissed before, yes, but that had been in passion and, more importantly, in private. Dwarves and Men appeared to be much more comfortable with public physical affection than Elves. She wasn't sure what would be proper in this situation. Perhaps, if she just held his hand, that would be all right?

She slid a hand across the inches that separated them and laid her hand on top of his where it rested on the deck. He turned his hand over and interlaced their fingers, his fingers broad and thick compared to her slender digits. She paused a moment, unsure, and then squeezed his hand. 

Squeezing her hand back, Kíli lifted their entwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of her hand gently. She shivered at the feel of his scratchy beard against her skin. With their joined hands resting on his knee, they sat together like that for the rest of the trip to the shore.

The skiff was a fast vessel, having been built for use in smuggling, and was not as heavily laden as some of the other boats, so they were the first to land at the lakeshore docks. There were farms along the lakeshore which supplied food to the town as well as a small grain mill and a few other necessary businesses which could not easily be housed in a floating city.

There was already a crowd of farmers and laborers dressed in hastily thrown-on clothing waiting for them at the shore. They started asking questions almost before the skiff had docked. "What happened? Was it the dragon? We heard a terrible roar and now Lake-Town burns!"

"I told you, I saw the dragon!" a child interjected.

"It is true," Sigrid said, looping a line around a dock piling. "The dragon awakened and burned Lake-Town."

"My father shot it dead from the wind-lance tower," Bain added. "He used a Black Arrow, just like Lord Girion in the stories."

"Where is your father?" a woman with her long black hair pulled back into braids asked as she pushed forward to the front of the group. She looked to Tauriel like close kin to the guard Nasim, darker-skinned than most of the Men of Lake-Town. "And who are these people with you? Elves and Dwarves?"

Sigrid jumped easily from the skiff to the dock. "They are our friends, Nadra. They helped save us when Orcs attacked our house."

"Orcs? We found livestock ripped apart in the far paddocks," one of the Men said. "I thought it looked like the work of Orcs. Are you saying that these Orcs actually crossed the bridge into Lake-Town?"

"A lot has happened in the past day," Sigrid said wearily. "But now we need you to open up your homes and barns to shelter those of us who managed to escape Lake-Town before it burned."

"Of course," Nadra said. "It wouldn't be right not to help our neighbors when they're in need. Isn't that right," she said in a dangerous-sounding tone when a few in the crowd began muttering unhappily. The muttering subsided under her glare.

Under Nadra's direction, they set up a place in one of the barns where Óin could see to the injured. Most had only received cuts and minor burns while escaping, but there were a few more badly injured. Tauriel was amused that Óin, despite his crotchety attitude toward all things Elven, immediately co-opted Cirdolas as an assistant. Everyone else dispersed to help wherever they could. 

Kíli and Tauriel unloaded the oilcloth rucksacks from the skiff, handing them to Bain and Sigrid, who would share them out with whoever needed dry or warmer clothing.

To her surprise and pleasure, Tauriel found that someone had thought to throw the bundle of her armor, tunic, and weapons into the skiff. "I have felt almost naked without this," she said, running a hand down the smooth wood of her bow.

Staring across the water at the burning remains of Lake-Town, Kíli didn't respond.

"Kíli?"

"We can't wait until morning. Fíli could be hurt. He could die before morning. Please go with me to Lake-Town tonight," he said, turning desperate eyes on her.

Tauriel hesitated, biting her lip as she looked across the water. It was risky and doubtless foolhardy, but if it had been Legolas who had been left behind in the burning city, she wouldn't be able to wait until dawn either.

A shiver of unease hit her as she realized she had simply been assuming that Legolas had left Lake-Town chasing the Orcs. He could be in that inferno too--but no, she was almost certain that he had left the city long before the dragon attacked.

"I will go with you, Kíli. But promise me you'll be careful. You were close to dying only a few hours ago."

"Truly? I didn't realize it was that bad. I feel fine now." His brow wrinkled. "Why do I have a faint memory that you were glowing?"

"That was my _fae_ , my spirit. I healed you."

"You..." Kíli's eyes widened. "I remember that. You were _bavonursinh_ , the lady crowned with fire." 

"Is that what that means?"

"I probably shouldn't have told you that," he winced. "Óin will kill me. Just forget I said that. Come on, let's head back to Lake-Town."

"Right now? We should ask Sigrid if we can borrow the boat... or not," she said with a sigh as Kíli untied the skiff from the dock and began wrestling one of the long paddles out of its holders.

They figured out how to row the skiff with a minimum of turning in circles. Tauriel had once or twice rowed a pleasure boat on the Forest River in happier days, and Kíli had a strong motivation to get past his Dwarvish dislike of anything having to do with boats or water.

As they reached the outskirts of the burning town, Tauriel realized the magnitude of their foolishness in thinking that they could safely navigate the canals of Lake-Town, now choked with burning rubble, in the skiff. The wind gusted and blew smoke and cinders in their direction. She could feel the heat from a good fifteen feet away.

"We cannot get the skiff through the canals," she warned. "This may be as close as we can get."

"Get me as close as you can and I'll jump to one of the walkways," Kíli said grimly. 

Tauriel stared at him. "The walkways that are _on fire_?"

Kíli shrugged at her. "I wasn't exaggerating when I said that Dwarves are fire-resistant. We were forged by Mahal; we can withstand fire and heat that would kill a Man."

"All right, but you aren't going in there alone. I can swim in using the canals."

"That water is ice cold. Literally ice cold, there are chunks of ice floating in it." Kíli pointed, as if she could have missed the chunks of ice somehow.

"You Dwarves may be resistant to heat, but Elves can withstand cold that would freeze the blood of any other race."

Kíli nodded. "That's the plan, then. I'll go in using the walkways and you'll follow me in the canals." He took a deep breath. "This is a terrible idea, isn't it."

"It is."

"But we're going to do it anyway."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Tauriel felt the corners of her lips curl up as she met Kíli's eyes. "We are."

" _Bavonursinh_ , my lady of fire and starlight," he said, cradling her face between his hands. "If I don't make it out of this alive, I want you to know that I love you."

With a hard, desperate kiss, he was gone, vaulting up onto the burning walkway and disappearing into the flames.

Tauriel blinked in shock, holding a hand to her mouth and looking up at the stars, faintly visible through the smoke. Had he really just... but no, Kíli wasn't a Silvan Elf, he didn't know their customs. There was no way for him to know what he had just done by declaring his love under the light of the stars.

She shook her head sharply, making herself focus. She could think about it _later_.

Tying the skiff to a piling far enough away from the flames that it would hopefully not catch fire before they returned, she stripped off Sigrid's old dress, leaving her in just her undertunic. The silk the undertunic was made out of would not weigh her down underwater the way the wool dress would have. Taking a deep breath, she dove into the icy water.

Navigating through the rubble-choked canals was a challenge, but one unexpected advantage of the lingering connection between their spirits was that she could feel Kíli's location in relationship to her. She quickly abandoned following the actual canals and just swam under the buildings wherever she could, following Kíli's path through the treacherous maze that Lake-Town had become.

Kíli's forward motion abruptly stopped. Tauriel surfaced as close to him as she could get. "Kíli?"

"Tauriel?" He stepped toward the edge of the walkway, absently beating out a smoldering patch of flames on his coat with his bare hands. "The wind-lance tower--I think it was right over there. Do you see anything?"

"There!" She pointed at a faint hint of movement in the half-collapsed remains of the Master's house. "There's someone moving in there!"

Kíli was able to get across the canal to the walkway by the Master's house with a jump across burning pilings that made her heart clench to see. Tauriel surfaced close to the walkway on that side and pulled herself out of the water. The heat and smoke were less intense here; she thought the cloud of steam that the dragon had created upon sinking had probably killed some of the flames. 

"Fíli!" Kíli shouted as he pulled pieces of a collapsed wall off of the source of the faint movement Tauriel had seen.

"Kíli!" a voice called faintly from under the rubble.

"Hang on, we're getting you out!"

Together, Kíli and Tauriel were able to pull the largest piece of former building off and away, revealing Fíli, slightly singed-looking but otherwise intact, lying on top of an unconscious Bard. 

"Kee," Fíli said, climbing to his feet and making a pained noise as his brother grabbed him into a bearhug. 

"Fee." Kíli pulled back immediately. "Are you injured?"

"Just a cracked rib, I think. But Bard is in bad shape."

They pulled an unconscious Bard out of the wreckage carefully, laying him on his back and revealing ugly burns stretching from his jaw all the way down his arm to his hand on one side. 

"I knocked him out of the way before he got caught by the full brunt of Smaug's fire," Fíli said. "I wasn't fast enough to get him completely clear, though."

"Can you heal him? The way you did me?" Kíli asked Tauriel.

She hesitated. "Perhaps, but we should wait to try until we are somewhere safe. I fell unconscious after I healed you earlier."

"Is that how my little brother came to be well enough to rescue me? I owe you a life-debt, my lady Elf." Fíli bowed to her deeply.

"Truly, you do not owe me anything. I am glad to see you safe."

There was a loud crack and then a crash somewhere in the distance as part of a burning building fell. The three of them exchanged worried looks. "We need to get out of here," Kíli said.

"How did you get in here, anyway?" Fíli asked. "I thought I was going to die here with Bard."

"I swam. Kíli walked."

"You swam. All right," Fíli said, sounding like all his skepticism had been worn out. "Bard won't make it if we try to carry him out. Men are pretty fragile when it comes to fire."

"He would freeze to death in the water. Bard told me that the water was too cold for a Man earlier," she said.

In the end, they found a tiny coracle, just large enough to carry one person, and Tauriel towed it out while Fíli and Kíli paced her on the walkways, occasionally clearing burning rubble out of her way. She kept an eye out for any other survivors, but it seemed that Fíli and Bard had been incredibly lucky to survive being that close to the dragon when it fell. There were no other survivors to be found.

Kíli and Tauriel rowed the skiff back to the lake-shore docks. Reaching the shore, they carried Bard's still-unconscious body into the barn where Óin was caring for the wounded. 

"Da! Oh no, no, no," Sigrid said, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Is he going to be all right?" Bain asked.

"Your father has a strong will and he's in good health," Óin said. "He's a fighter." Tauriel noted that he had not actually made any specific promise about Bard's chances.

Tilda wept openly, clinging to her older siblings while they tried to keep a stiff upper lip for her sake.

"Do you think you can safely heal again, lass?" Óin asked quietly with a glance over his shoulder at Bard's children, still standing by the blanket-covered bales of hay that served in place of a cot. "I don't like his chances."

"I do not know. But I must try," Tauriel said. "Bard is a great Man. He saved the lives of countless people when he shot down Smaug. And I...I count him as a friend."

"Very well. Do not push yourself too far though, lass. You may be an Elf but you aren't invulnerable," Óin grumped at her. 

With a feeling of surprise, Tauriel realized that the old Dwarven healer was worried on her behalf.

Athelas was easily found, since the farmers here used it for pig feed (Óin grumbled again about the pigs being the healthiest creatures in the city.) He prepared the athelas into a thin paste, spreading it on Bard's raw, blistered skin. Then Tauriel stood over Bard's pallet, closing her eyes and reaching inside herself to the heart of the star that burned within her.

Tauriel couldn't reach it at first. She pushed further, hating the thought that she might have to tell Bard's children that she couldn't help their _ada_. Slowly, painfully, the energy trickled from her hands into Bard. She had thought that healing Kíli had hurt. That was nothing next to the pain of healing Bard. It felt like she imagined turning her skin inside out and rolling in a bin of broken glass would feel. 

Tauriel's vision whited out and she lost track of anything outside the painful ripping out of her soul to heal Bard. She was aware of nothing else until she came back to herself, lying on the ground with Kíli cradling her head in his lap.

"Tauriel! _Gimlinh_ , speak to me." 

"What should I say?" Her voice was scratchy and rough.

Kíli smiled down at her, the wide smile of happiness that made his eyes crinkle into crescent moons. "Whatever you wish, as long as you say something."

"Then I shall simply say _le suilon_." 

He nodded thoughtfully. "I have no idea what that means."

"It means hello."

They might have sat there smiling at each other besottedly for quite some time if Óin had not demanded to know if Tauriel's wits had deserted her.

Tauriel looked up and noticed that everyone around them was staring at them. "I am quite well, thank you," she said, sitting up and putting a hand to her brow as she felt her head spin slightly. "But how is Bard?"

"His burns are greatly improved," Óin reported. "He should heal with time."

Climbing to her feet, she swayed for a moment then carefully stepped to the side of Bard's pallet. He still looked terrible to her eyes, with reddened, raw skin stretching from his jawline down to his left hand. "I am certain that I can heal him more. I just need a moment to recuperate."

Óin pointed at her. "You will do no such thing. Go find someplace to rest now and sleep--or whatever it is that Elves do--for at least five hours, or I'll have you in here with the rest of my patients."

She was not going to win this argument, she could tell. Tauriel inclined her head respectfully to the old healer. "I bid you good night, then."

Her dignified exit was spoiled by her inability to walk in an entirely straight line. Kíli exclaimed wordlessly and put an arm around her waist. After a moment's internal debate, Tauriel rested an arm around his shoulders and allowed him to help her walk out of the barn.

Nadra caught them at the door. "I have a room where you can sleep. It's not much, but it's warm."

"I thank you but I will be fine sleeping under the stars. Elves do not mind the cold."

"But Dwarves do. Thank you, Nadra, we would very much appreciate it."

As they followed the woman along a path from the barn to a small, neat-looking farmhouse, Tauriel murmured, "We?"

The smile Kíli flashed up at her seemed a little nervous. "Just to sleep, I truly do not expect anything else. Please, Tauriel, let me keep watch over you tonight. You passed out earlier. I'm worried about you."

She hesitated, worried about propriety. But really, did propriety matter right now? "Very well."

Nadra led them around the side of the farmhouse to a set of doors set at an angle into the ground where a small hill began. "It's just a root cellar, I'm afraid. But there are blankets and privacy." The look she gave them had a bit of mischief to it. "The second one is in short supply right now."

Tauriel felt her ear-tips flushing red at the implications. "I thank you for your kindness and hospitality," she said, retreating into the comfort of formality.

"You saved Bard's life," Nadra said. Her large, dark eyes filled with tears and she wiped them away with a sound of impatience. "For that, I owe you much more than a pile of blankets in a root cellar, but this will have to do."

"You have the gratitude of the line of Durin," Kíli said with a bow. His attempt at formality was somewhat ruined by his impish grin. 

They bade her good night and climbed down the short flight of steps into the root cellar. There was, as Nadra had promised, a neat pile of blankets on the dirt floor of the cellar. Shelves filled with jars and clay pots lined the walls of the room. There were small windows at the top of the wall above the door, just large enough to illuminate the room faintly with starlight.

Now that they were alone, Tauriel wasn't entirely sure how to act. She made herself busy by unfolding the blankets and making them into two piles. Kíli watched her with his head cocked to the side. "It's chilly down here. It'd be warmer if we share," he pointed out.

"Oh! I hadn't considered that it might be cold in here to a non-Elf. Certainly, I can share my heat with you." 

Kíli seemed to be trying to hide a smile as they rearranged the blankets. She suspected that it was not as cold to a Dwarf as he had pretended, but on further reflection she decided that she did not mind. The thought of being close to Kíli was pleasant in a way that warmed her ear-tips and left her feeling very aware of her body.

They slid under the blankets facing each other, with perhaps half a foot of very charged-feeling distance between them. Tauriel tried meeting his eyes and had to look away, embarrassed by the intimacy of the moment.

"Are you all right?" Kíli asked.

"I'm quite well, I thank you."

"You don't sound well," he said, reaching out a hand to almost touch her face and then pulling it back. "I am sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, that's the last thing I want to do. Here, I'll take half the blankets and go lie on the other side--"

"Kíli," she said, catching his wrist before he could sit up. "No, don't. You haven't made me feel uncomfortable. Just...nervous."

"Nervous?" His eyes were very dark in the faint light. "Is that a bad nervous or..."

"A good nervous." She smiled at him hesitantly, her smile widening as he returned it with one of his infectious grins. "A very good nervous."

Tauriel leaned forward, matched a moment later by Kíli, and their lips met in a soft caress. They kissed softly for a few moments before he drew away. 

"What you did, healing Bard--it looked like it was really extremely painful. Is it normally supposed to be like that?"

"It should not have been so painful, but then again I am not a trained healer."

"The way you passed out afterward--that was terrifying. You said that you had passed out after you healed me. Please don't do that again, not for my sake. Dwarves are tough. We can survive a lot more than you would think."

She smiled at him, cupping a hand to the side of his face. "You should know that I cannot promise you that. I would save you again no matter the cost."

" _Azyungel_ , Tauriel--" He kissed her desperately, as if he would devour her. Deep within herself she felt an answering hunger. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back. She landed with her knees to either sides of his hips, her center pressing somewhat shockingly against the distinct hardness beneath his trousers. 

They kissed again and again, his hands stroking restlessly along the length of her hair and grazing her hips, her fingers learning the coarse texture of his stubble and the surprising softness of his hair. The kisses eventually softened from the initial devouring eagerness, growing sweet and languorous. His hands came to rest on the dip of her waist as the kisses slowed and softened.

Then between one kiss and the next, Kíli fell asleep.

Tauriel raised herself up on her elbows and looked down at him, dipping her head to kiss the bruised-looking shadows beneath his eyes. It was not surprising that he was exhausted, considering all that they had been through that day and night. 

"Sleep now, Kíli. I will keep watch," she said, sliding to the side and arranging herself with her head resting on his shoulder and her arm stretched across his waist. Kíli murmured in his sleep, his free hand moving restlessly until she laced her fingers with his.

"Sleep, _melui nin_." Biting her lip, she looked up at the faint glow of starlight through the tiny windows and then whispered very quietly, " _Le melin_."

There was no way that Kíli could have known what pledging his love beneath the stars meant, and of course she would never hold him to a custom he could not possibly have understood. 

But even if it was not truly binding, the knowledge that they were promised to one another was like a second heart glowing in her chest, filling her with warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:
> 
> Khuzdul:  
> gimlinh - star-lady  
> bavonursinh - fire-crowned lady (I am certainly no linguist, so if anyone has an idea for a more accurate translation of that, please don't hesitate to suggest it.)  
> azyungel – love of loves
> 
> Sindarin:  
> ada - daddy  
> le suilon - I greet you (reverential)  
> melui nin - my sweet  
> le melin - I love you (reverential)


	12. Chapter 12

When she awoke the next morning she found that they were entwined, just like the morning they had awoken together when Tauriel had been a prisoner of the Dwarves. Kíli lay curled protectively around her, her back pressed to his chest, one of his arms serving as her pillow.

She allowed herself to relax for a few minutes, listening to his steady breathing and feeling his warmth surround her. The dawn light crept through the tiny windows, illuminating the root cellar in patches of light and shadow.

Tauriel forced herself to pull away from Kíli's warm body and sit up once the pale light of dawn began to brighten. There was work to do, and plenty of it, if they were to help the survivors of Lake-Town get through the coming days and weeks.

Kíli stirred and mumbled as she pulled away from him. "Tauriel?" he murmured as she sat up. "Where are you going?" His eyes were opened the barest slit.

"To help wherever I can. You should sleep."

"I can't. I'm awake now." He yawned widely, stretching his arms over his head. Sitting up, he tugged gently at the end of her hair. "Come here and kiss me."

Smiling, she leaned in and kissed him softly. " _Le suilon, melui nin_."

"Since I don't speak Elvish I'm going to assume that meant "I would like to kiss you again.""

She raised an eyebrow at him. "How did you guess?"

They might have been there for quite some time, trading good morning kisses, if there had not come a sudden loud knocking on the door to the root cellar.

"Wake up, slugabeds! I'm opening the door in one minute, so if you're in a compromising position I would suggest becoming uncompromised."

Kíli groaned, flopping down onto the blankets and throwing his arm over his eyes. "Fíli! Do you have to?"

"Call it the perks of being an older brother. Hurry up, time's a-wasting!"

"Fine, we will be out in a moment. Don't mind my idiot of a brother," Kíli added loudly. "He was raised by wolves."

Fíli snorted. "Half a minute!"

Flushing red at the ear-tips, Tauriel busied herself with straightening her tunic and buckling her leather armor over it.

Quietly, Kíli added, "He must like you, otherwise he'd have barged in without knocking."

She met his eyes, feeling suddenly shy. "I am glad to hear that."

They opened the door just as Fíli started to pull the door open from the outside. The brothers hugged tightly, knocking foreheads together.

"Troll," Kíli said, grinning and ducking away from his brother's lazy swipe at his head.

"My lady Elf," Fíli said, bowing to Tauriel.

"Your highness," she answered with a deeper bow than she would normally give to anyone but King Thranduil. Looking amused, he inclined his head regally.

"And I'm the prince of very hungry people, at your service." Kíli held his arm out for Tauriel to hook her arm into, as if they were walking together at Court. "Where's the food?"

"This way, your highness," Fíli said, gesturing grandly.

One of the barns had been cleared out and filled with trestle tables. Judging by the bedding piled neatly along the walls, it also served as makeshift sleeping quarters. The crowd gathered at the tables and around the cooking pots stared and whispered as the three of them entered.

"Why are they staring at us?" Kíli muttered out of the side of his mouth.

"We're the heroes of the day for saving Bard from fiery death," Fíli answered blithely. He led them to the cooking pots, where they picked up bowls of porridge, then brought them over to a table where Bofur, Nadra, Sigrid, and Cirdolas were finishing up their breakfasts.

Tauriel sat down between Kíli and Cirdolas, murmuring a quiet _mae g'ovannen_ to her cheerful-looking apprentice. Someone had put his hair into two braids, one of them lopsided and much messier than the other. She thought she could guess who the two hair braiders had been.

"Morning, slugabeds," Bofur said with a twinkle in his eye. "Difficult time getting out of bed this morning?"

Kíli coughed and turned red, ducking his head over his bowl of porridge.

"Behave yourself," Nadra said, swatting the back of Bofur's hat. "Good morning, Prince Kíli and Lady Tauriel."

"I'm not a lady," Tauriel corrected, unsure why that statement made Bofur snort and then jump as if someone had just kicked him under the table.

"Bofur was just explaining what can be built quickly to extend our living quarters for the winter. Housing everyone in the barns isn't a good long-term solution, either for the survivors or for my livestock." Nadra pulled a small pipe out of the breast pocket of her coat and started packing it with neat, well-practiced motions.

Tauriel could not begin to follow the conversation that sparked between the three Dwarves regarding building techniques. She focused on Sigrid, who looked tired but in relatively good spirits. "How is your father?"

"He's doing well. Master Óin says his fever has broken and his burns are starting to heal. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for our da."

"I only wish I could have done more." She was fairly certain that her difficulty in healing Bard was due to pushing herself too hard when she healed Kíli, though it might also have to do with the lingering thread linking their spirits together.

"You saved our da's life. You and the princes. Without the three of you, he'd have been dead for sure." Sigrid took a deep breath and looked away, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. 

Cirdolas rested a hand on the girl's shoulder, murmuring soothingly. "Thanks, 'Dolas," she said, wiping her eyes.

The casual abbreviation of Cirdolas's name was still somewhat jarring to Tauriel, though she had noticed that it was something Men did to indicate friendship. "You have my thanks. Perhaps I should check with Óin if your _ada_ requires further healing."

Cirdolas raised his chin, trying to sound authoritative. "Master Óin said that if you tried healing anyone today he'd throw you in the dungeons."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What dungeons?"

He shrugged. "He said he'd find some." 

Both Sigrid and Cirdolas giggled at her expression. 

Across the table, Nadra looked away from the argument between the Dwarves, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "I assume at some point they'll get tired of arguing about it and actually start building the shelters," she said with a wink.

"Do not be so sure," Tauriel said. "I am certain they are fully capable of continuing to argue throughout the entire process."

Nadra laughed, but sobered quickly. "My brother Nasim told me that it was you and Bard who unlocked the water-gates and convinced him to order his men to open them if the dragon came. We owe you a great debt. Without that, I am sure that the death toll would have been much higher."

"He did get out of the city, then? I am glad to hear that. Your brother saved many lives with his actions."

"Indeed." Nadra looked amused again. "I would have recognized you immediately based on his description, though perhaps "like a siren of old rising from the waters of the lake" was a bit of poetic fancy."

Tauriel's ear-tips flushed red. "Ah," she coughed. "Well, I was in the water and I did surface from it while your brother was there, but I can't speak to the other part."

Nadra smiled at her. "Don't look so worried. It's obvious to anyone with eyes that you and Prince Kíli are a couple."

Tauriel glanced at Kíli and found him listening to their conversation with a smug, warm look in his eyes. "I should hope so," he said, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. "For I am hers, body and soul."

Fíli rolled his eyes and sighed at them, but his eyes were crinkled with a genuine smile of happiness. Bofur's eyebrows were raised so high that they were in danger of disappearing under his hat and his jaw had dropped wide open.

"Are you... but... Thorin," Bofur stuttered.

Kíli's chin jutted out mulishly. "What about Uncle Thorin?"

"Nothing, just..." Bofur whistled. "I sure hope you know what you're doing, lad."

The awkward moment was broken by Bain and Tilda appearing at the table. The children talked over each other at first.

"The Master--"

"That old charlatan--"

"--he wants us to send him food--"

"--ought to throw him in jail--"

"Hold," Nadra said. "What's this about the Master?"

"He's demanding that we send him the pick of the food, and all our warmest blankets," Bain said scornfully.

"The Master is here?" Tauriel asked.

"Not here, exactly. The Master wasn't too pleased when I told him he wouldn't be getting any special treatment on my farm. He's staying at old man Gaspar's farm up the road." Nadra's eyes gleamed with amusement as she grinned with the stem of the pipe clenched between her teeth.

"I cannot believe that man expects special treatment when we've all lost our homes and so many people have died." Sigrid shook her head, scowling. "He's disgusting."

"He's not making himself any friends among the townsfolk, I'll tell you that much for free," Bofur said. "No one misses the Master, but there are plenty of folk hailing Bard as the savior of Lake-Town."

Bain puffed up with pride. "Bard the Dragon-Slayer, that's what they're calling him."

"There's talk that they want him to be Lord of the city, like Lord Girion of Dale." Sigrid's eyes were wide, though whether with excitement or fear Tauriel could not say.

"All talk of the Lord of Dale aside, my response to the Master will be exactly what it was before," Nadra said. "The people who lived within Lake-Town proper have _all_ lost their homes. Those of us who have been more fortunate will aid everyone equally, with no special treatment for anyone."

"Hear, hear." The Dwarves pounded fists on the table in agreement.

Once the noise had died down, Tauriel said, "I would like to help in any way that I can. Where do you need aid?"

"Everywhere. What can you do?" Nadra replied.

"Other than killing Orcs and giant spiders, I have mainly hunted game to provide for my King's table." 

"We do need meat for the cookpots. That would be a great help."

"I'll go with her," Kíli said quickly. He winced and added, "It's just that I'll need to borrow a bow from someone."

Nadra appraised him. "I think my late uncle's bow would work for you. He was strong but not particularly tall."

Kíli sprang to his feet and bowed deeply. Tauriel suspected they had run into one of those unexpected cultural differences again, because Nadra looked taken aback at the seriousness and intensity with which he thanked her for allowing him to use a weapon carried by her deceased kinsman.

"We will not be able to tarry for too long, though," Fíli said. "Tomorrow or the day after, we must journey to the Lonely Mountain and determine the fates of our King and our kin." 

"I thank you for staying a few days to help out when you must be sore concerned for your kin," Sigrid said. "I cannot speak for all the folk of Lake-Town, but my family is greatly in your debt." Nadra nodded agreement.

"I hope that if all goes well the Dwarves of Erebor may rekindle our alliances of old with the Men of Dale and Lake-Town." Fíli looked stern and proud, his habitual air of quiet amusement dropping away. At that moment, Tauriel could see in him the great King that he would become.

Tauriel glanced to the side and saw Sigrid gazing raptly at Fíli. She could not blame the girl, although her own regard was reserved for the somewhat less princely-seeming dark-haired archer beside him.

After finishing their breakfast, Tauriel and Kíli went with Nadra to retrieve her uncle's bow and find out from her where the best hunting could be found at this season. They walked about a mile up the lakeshore to a cold fen with tall stands of reeds where waterfowl such as ducks and moorhens were easily startled from cover.

Kíli declared they should have a competition for who could shoot more fowl, and that the winner could receive a boon of their choosing.

"And what boon will you choose?" he asked. "A kiss?" He stepped up onto a fallen log, bringing him from shoulder-height to near the same height as her, and drew her into a kiss.

"Kíli!" she protested, laughing. "We are to be hunting, not dallying!"

"Cannot we do both, my _gimlinh_?" he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Try to do both at the same time and I fear we will be successful at neither."

He sighed, giving her big brown puppy-dog eyes, but she held strong. "I cede the point, fair lady," he said, hopping down from the fallen log.

They walked through the tall reeds in companionable silence for a few minutes before Kíli asked, "You said your clan's land was on the northwestern side of the lake. Is it near here?"

"It is further north, closer to the point where the river runs down from Erebor into the Long Lake. I've visited it a few times. It has been touched by the dragon's Desolation, but I believe that in time it will be beautiful once more."

"Does anything remain of your clan's dwellings? What do Silvan Elves live in, anyway? Caves like Thranduil's palace?"

"Mostly small houses made of wood, built to blend in with the forest. So no, to answer your question, there isn't any physical trace of my mother's clan left. But the trees knew me."

"The trees knew you." Kíli gave her a deeply skeptical look. 

She nodded, smirking at his obvious disbelief.

"We'll go through your clan's land when we travel to Erebor, won't we?"

"Yes, unless we go by boat as the Company did."

"The Company," he sighed, his mood turning somber. "I'm worried about them. If Smaug left the mountain, there are only two possibilities: either the Company is dead, or they are hiding somewhere that Smaug could not find them. Hiding is not really a Dwarf's strong suit, unless you're Nori."

"Don't forget they had Bilbo with them. If anyone could figure out how to hide from a dragon, it would be him."

"True," Kíli brightened. "Gandalf did say that Hobbits--"

He was interrupted by the sound of a horn calling from the direction of Nadra's farm. 

"What was that?" he asked.

"That was King Thranduil's fanfare. It is used to herald his approach."

"Thranduil? What would he be doing here?"

"We had best find out."

Tauriel worried her bottom lip with her teeth as they hurried back to the farm. For what reason would Thranduil have come here? It could not be to retrieve his prisoners; he would not bother to come himself for such a task. The King did not stir himself from his castle unless at great need.

Thranduil must have gotten word somehow that the dragon had been killed, she thought. That was the only plausible explanation. But why would he come here? Why not bypass the lakeshore farms entirely and march directly to Erebor?

By the time they reached the farm, there were Royal Guards standing watch outside the large barn where they had eaten breakfast. 

Bofur hurried to meet them. "You'll never believe who's in the barn."

"King Thranduil," Kíli and Tauriel said simultaneously.

Bofur deflated a little. "Well, yes. He's in there with Prince Fíli and Bard right now."

"Why is he here?" Kíli asked.

"Don't rightly know. Guess we'll find out." Bofur tugged at the flaps of his hat anxiously.

Kíli scowled. "I'm not waiting to find out." 

The Royal Guards barred the door with crossed spears when they approached. "Halt. Tauriel, we have orders to bring you before King Thranduil."

"Splendid. We were just on our way," Kíli said, trying to move forward.

The guards did not move. "Not you."

Tauriel sized them up. Young for their positions, for all that she was sure they were among the best warriors of Mirkwood, having won a position in the King's escort. She stepped forward, putting on the air of command that she had developed out of necessity as Captain of the Forest Guard.

"I understand that Prince Fíli is in conference with King Thranduil. You speak to his brother Prince Kíli, who has just returned from hunting. They will desire for the Prince to be part of this meeting."

The guards exchanged looks and returned their spears to their upright positions. "You may proceed," one of them said.

"Very good." Tauriel nodded imperiously as she held the door for Kíli to enter the barn.

Inside, Thranduil sat at one of the tables with Bard and Fíli sitting across from him. The guard Nasim stood behind Bard, mirroring Thranduil's personal guard on the other side of the table. Bard's arm was heavily bandaged and he looked drawn with pain, but still sat stubbornly upright.

"What is the meaning of this disruption?" Thranduil asked coolly. He wore his armor and the simple crown he preferred for battle. Whatever reason he had for leaving Mirkwood, Thranduil had ridden out expecting trouble.

"Oh, sorry, we were out hunting. Got here as quickly as we could." Kíli smiled carelessly, sitting on the same side of the table as Thranduil. Tauriel approved of the subtle move to make the meeting look less like Thranduil holding court with the others as petitioners. Steeling herself, she sat down on the same side of the table as Kíli, though she did keep him between her and the King.

"King Thranduil, may I introduce my brother Prince Kíli. Though you may remember him from your throne room." _When you threw us in the dungeons_ went unspoken.

"While of course I would not disagree that your brother Prince Kíli should be privy to this meeting, I do protest the inclusion of my disgraced former Guard Captain."

"I believe that I speak for all of us," Bard said, "when I tell you that Tauriel has every right to be part of this meeting. Without her help, many more of Lake-Town's inhabitants would have perished. Her presence is non-negotiable."

"And what of the Master of Lake-Town?" Thranduil asked. "Should he not be privy to this discussion?"

"If you would care to retrieve him from the hole in which he is no doubt cowering, you may feel free to do so," Bard said.

Waving a hand negligently, Thranduil said, "Very well, I will waste no further time on this matter. Tauriel may stay. Let us return to the question of Erebor."

"What of it?" Fíli looked tense and suspicious. "Either my uncle has survived the dragon, in which case he is King Under the Mountain, or he has perished, in which case the title passes to me. Erebor is not your concern."

Thranduil made a thoughtful noise. "Ah, yes, the dragon… the very dragon which your uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, awakened from a slumber which had lasted for nigh on sixty years. An act of utter irresponsibility which resulted in the destruction of Lake-Town and terrible loss of life. Is that not so, Bard of the line of Girion?"

Bard gave him a sharp look but nodded nevertheless. "That does appear to be the long and short of it."

"Lake-Town is owed recompense, that much is clear," Thranduil said, his eyes hooded and lazy like a cat waiting to pounce.

"What is your interest in this?" Fíli asked. "Thranduil, King of _Mirkwood_."

"As for myself, I seek only that which I am owed. A small casket of white gems which your great-grandfather kept from me in violation of his sworn word. That is my only interest in the matter. Beyond of course ensuring that the Men of Lake-Town, our allies for many generations of Men, are not also cheated out of that which they are owed." Thranduil said all of this with perfect icy composure, undisturbed by the rage suffusing both Dwarves' faces.

"You hold your tongue. King Thror was an honorable Dwarf and a great King!" Kíli shouted, leaping to his feet.

"Calm yourself, brother." Fíli appeared to have gotten his anger under control. "That is truly all you seek? One small casket of white gems? And what do you offer us?"

"I offer the Men of Lake-Town the aid of my healers. Of course, this aid will also be offered to the survivors of Thorin Oakenshield's company--if there are any. In addition, my people will aid the Men of Lake-Town in whatever way we can to help you through this crisis."

"On behalf of the Men of Lake-Town, we gratefully accept the aid of the Elves of Mirkwood," Bard said. 

"I will leave a detachment of healers here and send word to my realm to send builders and crafters here to help you rebuild. Tomorrow we must press on to Erebor, to stabilize the situation there before less scrupulous Men--or Orcs--see it as an undefended prize to be taken."

Fíli's teeth ground together. "Very well," he said with a thin veneer of calm. "The remainder of the Company will go with you. Bard?"

"I'll be happy to accompany you, along with a troop of our best guards. Just in case of trouble, you understand."

Thranduil inclined his head. "Of course."

"Very well. We will leave tomorrow at first light," Fíli said.

Though Tauriel was relieved that the King had virtually ignored her presence, she dreaded the private meeting that she was sure would follow.

They filed out of the barn with Thranduil in the lead, finding that the people of Lake-Town were gathered outside. She spotted Cirdolas and Bofur standing with Bard's children at the front of the crowd.

Thranduil came to a stop and posed for a moment, in a move that she recognized as his way of gathering all attention on him before he spoke. An irritated look crossed his face as Bard spoke first.

"King Thranduil of Mirkwood has offered us the assistance of his healers in caring for our sick and injured." A cautious cheer arose. Tauriel guessed that the people of Lake-Town knew Thranduil well enough to look out for a hidden catch.

Thranduil inserted smoothly, as if he had intended to let Bard make the announcement, "In addition, I will summon builders and crafters from the Woodland Realm to aid you in rebuilding."

This time the cheering was much louder. Thranduil looked pleased.

Bard waited for the cheering to die down before speaking again. "Representatives of Lake-Town, the Dwarves of Erebor, and the Woodland Realm will travel to the Lonely Mountain on the morrow, so that we may inspect the damage and discover what is left of Erebor."

A murmur ran through the crowd. Tauriel could hear the word "gold" repeated again and again.

"Men of Lake-Town, we have known loss and privation in the past. We will recover and rebuild, greater than before!" Bard shouted.

This time the cheer was almost deafening. A chant of "King Bard, King Bard," began at the back of the crowd. It was quite some time before the cheering died down.

Tauriel spotted Thranduil making a subtle gesture with his fingers. It must have been some kind of magic, for he appeared suddenly to be almost glowing with reflected sunlight. "There is one final matter which must be addressed. Tauriel, former Guard Captain of Mirkwood, step forth."

Her heart thumped loudly against the walls of her chest. She stepped forward, gesturing Kíli back when he moved to join her.

"You have abandoned your duty, disobeyed your King, and aided prisoners in escaping the Woodland Realm. Do you dispute these charges?"

"I cannot dispute them." 

"Then so be it," Thranduil said. "Tauriel, you are exiled forthwith from the Woodland Realm on the grounds of treason."

The words hit her like a falling tree. For a moment she felt as if she would be crushed beneath them--exiled, homeless, with no place in this world. She took a deep breath and stiffened her spine. She might no longer be Tauriel of the Woodland Realm, but she was still Tauriel of the Holly-Tree Clan. She would make her own place in the world.

"I do not dispute your judgement. It is your right as King to exile me from your realm. Just as it was your right, six hundred years ago, to declare my mother's clan no longer part of your realm after they refused to relocate when you pulled back the borders of the Woodland Realm."

She met Thranduil's eyes, raising her chin defiantly. "If I am banished from your realm, then neither I nor my clan are subject to your rulership. As Clan Mother of _Eregnoss_ , I claim the lands on the shore of the Long Lake that you ceded to my clan six hundred years ago. Furthermore, I declare _Eregnoss_ independent of the Woodland Realm."

"A clan of one? How very enterprising of you." Thranduil chuckled, the sound deceptively warm. "Cirdolas, son of Galion, step forth."

Looking terrified but defiant, Cirdolas stepped forward. 

"Out of respect for the long and faithful service of your father, my Steward, I offer you one last chance to return to the Woodland Realm. Your father has sent word that if you do not return, you will be cast out of your clan."

Watching as Cirdolas squared his shoulders and met the King's gaze, she was amazed at how much her apprentice had grown up in a few short weeks. 

In a strong, clear voice, Cirdolas said, "Your Majesty, I thank you for your kindness but I must reject your offer. Tauriel is my _herdir_ and I will not leave her."

"Then you are banished and clanless."

Cirdolas flinched visibly, all color fading from his face.

"Not so," Tauriel said as she moved stand beside Cirdolas. She could feel tiny shivers passing through his frame as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "In accordance with Silvan law, I hereby adopt my apprentice Cirdolas into _Eregnoss_."

"Clan Mother, I accept this honor and I will do my utmost to prove--" Cirdolas's voice broke. "To prove your faith in me is well deserved."

She squeezed Cirdolas's shoulder as she met Thranduil's gaze challengingly. It was the only reassurance she could give her apprentice without showing weakness in front of the King. 

"Very well." Thranduil gestured languidly, as if he were bored with the whole matter, though she recognized the icy glitter of rage in his eyes. "A clan of two with a dragon-fouled marsh for your lands. So be it, and I wish you much joy of it." 

Turning in a swirl of silver hair, King Thranduil stalked away, followed by his guards. 

"Thank you, _Minui_ ," Cirdolas whispered as he hugged her, still shaking.

"I am so very proud of you, apprentice." Tauriel pressed her cheek to his hair, releasing him just before Tilda crashed into him in a flurry of skirts and braids. 

The little girl giggled as Cirdolas picked her up and swung her in a small circle. Appearing to have a greater understanding than her sister of the gravity of what had just happened, Sigrid murmured quietly into Cirdolas's ear as she wrapped her arms around both of them.

Meeting Kíli's eyes across the crowded yard, Tauriel returned his brilliant smile, feeling almost as if she could sense his affection through the bright cord connecting their spirits.

She might have lost her home and her place in the world, but she could not regret the cost when balanced against everything that she had gained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to the-lokito on Tumblr for being a source of excellent suggestions!
> 
> translations:
> 
> Khuzdul:  
> gimlinh - star lady 
> 
> Sindarin:  
> le suilon, melui nin - I greet you, my sweet (reverential)  
> mae g'ovannen - well met  
> ada - daddy  
> Eregnoss - Holly-Tree Clan  
> herdir - master  
> minui - first


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for verbal abuse from a parental figure. Just so you're prepared, Arkenstone-influenced/dragon-sick Thorin is really horrible to Kíli in particular.

The Elven healers set up in the same barn Óin had been using to care for those who had been wounded during the escape. The barn was now crowded with the many survivors of Lake-Town who had started to develop a deep, rattling chest cough with a fever.

While Fíli and Kíli stopped to speak with Bard, Tauriel took a moment alone to see one of the healers. 

An older Silvan woman with dark auburn hair and a serene gaze, the healer listened to her story without comment. After examining Tauriel's energy flow, she shook her head and made a chiding noise. 

"You have damaged your fae by pushing yourself too far without the proper training in how to channel the energy safely. I do not think that the damage is permanent, but if you push yourself too hard again, it will be."

"There were extenuating circumstances." It almost felt strange speaking Sindarin after spending several days speaking only Westron.

"There always are," the healer sighed. "You do realize that there is still a connection between your fae and that of the young dark-haired Dwarf who keeps stealing glances at you?"

Tauriel followed the healer's eyes to Kíli, who was indeed looking at her while pretending to pay attention to Óin. She could feel her ear-tips turning red. "Yes, I have been aware of it ever since I healed him." Fortunately, the healer did not seem to think anything was unusual about an untrained healer accidentally forming a spirit connection with the person healed.

The healer's eyes went unfocused as she looked at Tauriel. "It is not harming you," she murmured, raising a hand as if to trace along an invisible line between Tauriel and Kíli. "I can teach you how to close it, though it will take some time."

Tauriel felt strangely uncomfortable at the thought of breaking the connection. "If it is not doing any harm, then it can wait until the current crisis is over."

"Very well. Return to me when you have time to learn." Her voice dropping so that it was barely audible even to Tauriel, the healer added, "Willow Tree Clan would like to extend our congratulations to the Clan Mother of Holly Tree Clan."

"You have my thanks," Tauriel said automatically, caught flat-footed.

The healer gave her a smile that touched the eyes much more than the face. "You will find that you have more well-wishers among the Clans than you might believe. Go on, then. I have other patients to attend to."

Tauriel inclined her head to the healer in thanks and acknowledgment before making her way across the crowded barn to Kíli's side. Óin was loudly discussing Bard's progress with a harried-looking Elven healer who was attempting to re-wrap the bandages on Bard's arm.

"Tauriel," Bard said warmly. He was still pale and drawn-looking, but she had been told that the Elven healers had been able to repair the worst of the burn damage to his arm. "I understand I have you to thank for the use of my left arm."

"Aye," Óin said. "Without your healing, I might have needed to amputate his arm to save his life."

Trying not to wince, Tauriel noticed the healer looking almost as disturbed as she felt at the casual Dwarven attitude toward cutting into the body.

"I owe you a great debt for saving me from that fate. Not much call for a one-armed archer." Bard smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and Tauriel found herself returning his smile.

"Glad I am to see you recovering, _mellon nin_."

Kíli cleared his throat. "Well, we'd best get out of the way of the healers. Come on, Tauriel, I need to show you something."

She bade a hasty farewell to Bard before following Kíli out to the yard. "What needs our attention so urgently?"

He looked sheepish. "Nothing. I just didn't want to watch _Bard_ make eyes at you any longer."

Tauriel stared at him for a moment and then shook her head. "Come with me. I need to speak with you." 

She walked away from the busiest part of the farmyard, finding a quiet spot by a low stone wall where they could speak in relative privacy. Sitting on the wall, she pierced Kíli with a sharp glare. "What was that about? Am I not allowed to speak to Bard, whom I count as a friend?"

To his credit, Kíli looked shamefaced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be..." he trailed off.

"A jealous _rŷn_?" she suggested. "Do you truly think me so faithless?"

"No! No, of course I don't think you faithless." Kíli sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Dwarves--we can be a very possessive people."

"I am not a possession," she said sharply. 

"I know that. If anything, it is I who belongs to you."

Tauriel felt her anger beginning to soften at the look of utter misery on Kíli's face. He stepped closer, not quite touching her knees, and held his hands out for her to grasp. "I am sorry, _gimlinh_. I will keep a closer rein on my jealousy from now on. I swear this to you."

"I trust that you will, _melui nin_." Feeling extremely daring, she parted her knees and tugged him forward so that he stood in the vee formed by her thighs. Shocking behavior for two who were not yet wed, but they were betrothed after all (even if Kíli did not know it.) Kíli made a low noise in his throat and buried his hands in her hair, taking advantage of the fact that for once he was appreciably taller than her to tilt her head back and take control as they kissed. 

They were so distracted with kissing that they did not realize that Fíli had joined them until he cleared his throat loudly and said, "If you could separate yourselves for a moment, I have important news for you."

Tauriel made an embarrassing squeaking noise and pulled away from the kiss. Kíli looked smug, but she could feel her cheeks and ear-tips blazing with embarrassment. "What news?" she asked, trying to smooth down her hair where she could feel that Kíli had left it in disarray with his wandering hands.

"We're having another meeting with Thranduil to hammer out plans for the journey to Erebor. Right now."

"Do we have to meet with him again?" Kíli asked. "I wasn't fond of him after the dungeons, and now I'm _really_ out of patience with the Elvenking, after how he treated Tauriel."

"It is no matter," she told him. "King Thranduil was well within his rights to exile me." 

Kíli scowled and crossed his arms. "I don't like him and I _don't_ trust him."

"Neither do I," Fíli said. "But if you'd have paid any attention to Balin's lessons you would know that the best place to keep an ally you don't trust is right in front of you, so you can keep an eye on them."

Grumbling, Kíli followed him. Tauriel watched him walk away, smiling fondly. 

"Tauriel? Why aren't you coming with us?" Kíli asked, spinning around as he and his brother reached the near corner of the barn. 

Tauriel shook her head, but Kíli looked impatient and motioned for her to join them. Once she was close enough that she did not need to shout, she said, "I do not think that I am meant to be part of this meeting."

Kíli shrugged at her. "Why not? You're a Clan Mother, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but it is a clan of two. A clan in name only."

"Doesn't matter," Fíli said. "Bard is the heir to a city that doesn't exist anymore and we're both Princes-in-exile of a kingdom that's been dragon-infested for centuries. The only one of us with an actual kingdom is Thranduil, and we can't let him get the best of us now, can we?" Smirking, he gestured her forward. "After you, Clan Mother."

The meeting was held in Nadra's parlor rather than the large barn they had met in earlier. Tauriel assumed that change was due to the fact that the refugees were in the midst of evening meal preparation in the barn. 

Thranduil should have looked out of place among the simple hand-carved furniture and brightly patterned woven hangings, but his presence was such that he immediately looked as if he had been placed there by an artist to create the perfect visual contrast. Tauriel had to admire his ability to make any situation look as if he was in complete control.

Bard and Thranduil were in the middle of an intense-sounding discussion when Fíli, Kíli, and Tauriel arrived. From what she could gather, Thranduil was arguing that there was some connection between Smaug and the recent sorties of Orcs into Mirkwood.

"What does it matter, either way?" Bard asked him. "The beast is dead, and with it any connection it might have had to other foul creatures."

"Does it not seem strange to you that Orcs traveled north into the Woodland Realm, where they know certain death awaits, and then followed Thorin Oakenshield's trail all the way to Lake-Town? Then they actually entered Lake-Town, which is completely beyond the bounds of normal Orc behavior."

"That is out of character," Bard conceded. "But that still does not point to anything more than a powerful Orc leader with a grudge against Thorin Oakenshield."

"Your skepticism does you credit. However, my son sent word with one of my Forest Guards that he was chasing the leader of the Orc pack south. Legolas took a squad of guards with him. The last report I received placed them traveling into Southern Mirkwood towards Dol Guldur."

Though the news that Legolas had indeed left Lake-Town before Smaug's attack and that he had back-up on his chase was very welcome indeed, the rest of King Thranduil's news left Tauriel feeling deeply disturbed. Dol Guldur had long been at the center of the darkness and corruption that had spread throughout Mirkwood.

"There are forces operating here which we do not yet understand," Thranduil said. "This is no mere string of coincidences. The Orcs of Gundabad have an interest in Thorin Oakenshield's quest to regain Erebor. No doubt they plan to steal the mountain right out from under your feet, now that Smaug is dead."

"If this is true, then we cannot wait for the forces of Lake-Town and Mirkwood to travel to the Lonely Mountain on foot," Fíli said. "We need to get to Erebor as quickly as possible."

"Let us go now, without delay!" Kíli shouted, pounding his fist on the table.

"Haste will avail us naught. We must be prepared when we arrive at Erebor for any eventuality." Thranduil's sharp, cold eyes flicked to Bard as the Man made a considering noise.

"We could send scouts ahead," Bard suggested. "They could reach the Mountain by mid-day, if they took a fast boat across the lake. There they could assess the situation and return to us with any news."

"That is a sensible idea," Fíli said. Kíli started to protest and he cut him off with a warning look. "And if the situation in question did not involve the lives of my kin and my King, I would agree with it wholeheartedly. However it does, and so I must disagree. Bard, I would ask of you the loan of a fast boat so that I and the remainder of the Company may travel to Erebor at haste. If there are indeed Orcs threatening the Lonely Mountain, every sword may help."

Bard nodded. "I understand the need to ensure the safety of your kin. I will go with you, with some of Lake-Town's best guardsmen."

"This is the basest foolishness, to move your commanders without the protection of your army," Thranduil said, shaking his head. "Yet I can see there is no dissuading you. Very well. I will also accompany you, with a number of my finest warriors."

Fíli looked sour, but there was no way for him to protest Thranduil's inclusion without causing great offense. "Agreed. We should leave immediately."

Bard's mouth quirked to one side. "I can tell you're not accustomed to boats, Master Dwarf. We can leave no earlier than first light. You need to be able to see the hazards of the water in order to avoid them."

So it was agreed, though no one except Bard seemed to be entirely pleased with the decision. After they finalized the plans for the following day, Bard made a speech to the Lake-Town survivors telling them of the plan to scout out Erebor.

"Take me with you, _Minui_ ," Cirdolas pleaded after Bard's speech. 

"You are not yet fully trained," Tauriel told him gently. "This could be a very dangerous scouting expedition, if there are Orcs already prowling about."

"I am trained enough."

"We do not know what we are to face once we reach Erebor. Only the most experienced of the Lake-Town guardsmen and the King's Guards are accompanying us. You are to stay with Bard's children. Do not argue with me on this, apprentice."

Cirdolas drooped for a moment and then stiffened his shoulders. "Yes, Captain."

"I know that you will make me proud, apprentice," she said. Cirdolas smiled faintly as she held his eyes with hers. "Now, let us rest before the morn. Tomorrow will be busy."

Tauriel and Kíli could not claim the luxury of a private room to continue the...explorations that had been interrupted the night before by Kíli falling asleep. More survivors of Lake-Town had trickled in over the course of the day, swelling the numbers sheltering at Nadra's farm. They ended up sharing the root cellar with several survivors of Lake-Town as well as Fili and Bofur. Kíli and Tauriel behaved themselves, though their bedrolls did migrate together after lights out so that they could hold each other as they slept.

Late that night after everyone else had fallen asleep, Tauriel lay with Kíli's arms wrapped around her, his face buried in the back of her neck, feeling the slow inhale and exhale of his breath in sleep. The moment was so quiet, so utterly peaceful, that she felt herself breathing in the same rhythm. Slowly, she felt her fae stretch out, flowing along the connection between their spirits. Her fae curled around his, just as in the physical world Kíli was wrapped around her body. She drifted off to sleep with the feeling of safety and love permeating her very being.

They arose before dawn so that all would be prepared for them to cast off at morning's first light. More people than Tauriel would have expected braved the cold pre-dawn air to see them off, including Bard's children. 

Tauriel could see Sigrid and Tilda watching them as she pulled Cirdolas to the side to speak to him privately. "I am sorry that I must leave you behind. It is no reflection on your bravery. I know that you will be a fine warrior once you are fully trained."

"I understand." He hesitated for a moment and then darted in for a sudden, tight hug. She put her arms around him cautiously, still not entirely comfortable with the physical affection he bestowed so easily. "Be safe, my Captain," he said as he pulled away.

"I will see you soon." Her eyes were perhaps not entirely dry when they parted, but she lifted her chin and silently dared anyone to speak of it.

"We'll take good care of 'Dolas," Sigrid promised. Tilda agreed emphatically, though the little girl's eyes were red with weeping.

"I cannot thank you enough for the kindness you have shown to us," Tauriel said.

"You're our friends," Sigrid said simply. Tauriel smiled at her slowly, feeling the warmth of that declaration sink into her chest.

Kíli and Fíli joined them. "Bard says we're ready to cast off," Fíli reported.

"We already said goodbye to Da, but we'll come with you to wave goodbye and wish you well. You'll watch out for our da, won't you?" Sigrid asked, smiling shyly at Fíli.

"You have my word." He nodded to her respectfully and the girl turned slightly pink.

"Let us be off," Kíli said, grinning. "Erebor awaits."

They had agreed on using three small sailing vessels to cross the lake, lighter and faster than Bard's barge but able to carry ten passengers along with a small crew. Tauriel rode in the lead boat with the Dwarves, Bard, and Thranduil, followed by the other two boats carrying small troops of Lake-Town guardsmen and Royal Guards.

The day was cool but brilliantly sunny. She was glad for that, for the trip was uncomfortable enough, between Thranduil's icy silence and the Dwarves' barely veiled hostility to him, without rain or heavy waves on top of that. 

It took only a few hours of sailing to reach the mouth of the river which ran down from the gates of Erebor. They left the boats anchored there with their small crews to watch over them.

The road to Erebor ran through the heart of the Desolation of Smaug. There were no trees, only stunted bushes here and there. The whole countryside appeared to have been burnt by a terrible fire, but the plants and trees would long ago have recovered from any natural wildfire. Something about the dragon's presence appeared to have poisoned the land. Even the river seemed fouled, flowing sullen and oily between its banks.

It was a silent, grimly cautious group that made their way up the river valley towards the ruins of Dale.

"I will send scouts ahead," Thranduil said. His eyes were wary and even his legendary calm seemed slightly fractured by the ominous-feeling gloom.

Bard and Fíli nodded agreement after exchanging a glance. Thranduil sent two scouts to range ahead of them, running lightly along the riverbank as the main group continued on at a measured pace. 

One of the scouts was Túrinor, whom Tauriel had last seen when she had sent him to bring word to King Thranduil of the Dwarves entering the forest. Not wanting to spread her disgrace onto him, she had not spoken to him directly, but he had made eye contact with her briefly and almost smiled. The rest of the King's Guards had ignored her with single-minded determination, even guards whom she had known for centuries.

Despite the feeling of doom hanging heavily in the air, they reached the ruined city of Dale without any incident. Tauriel could barely keep herself from staring at the extent of the ruins. She had never seen a city of this size before, still impressive despite the ravages of fire and time. Dale's tall buildings still reached for the sky, though their steep-sided roofs were mostly collapsed and their stone walls bore the scorch-marks of the dragon's fire.

"The city of my ancestors," Bard said quietly. "I've never seen it but from a distance before. It's bigger than I thought it would be."

Tauriel could almost imagine the flow of travelers and traders who must once have travelled the broad flagstones of the road which led between Dale and Erebor. Clearly Dwarven-made, the road was still intact and clear after centuries of neglect, other than a little encroachment of weeds here and there where soil had drifted onto the flagstones.

The road climbed gradually as the mountain's sides began to rise, running straight along the river into a canyon that the water must have cut into the side of the mountain over the years. Closer to the mountain, the Desolation was almost physically uncomfortable, at least for the Elves. Tauriel caught some of the King's guards wiping their faces as if to clear away a film of dirty oil. The very air felt unclean. 

It did not appear to affect the Dwarves in exactly the same way but they still drew together in a protective huddle with Tauriel at the center, flanked by Fíli and Kíli. She rolled her eyes at that but decided it was not worth pointing out that she was hardly defenseless or in need of protection.

A raven called from the lip of the canyon, startling them. "A raven, now that's a good portent!" Óin said loudly. "That may be a descendant of the royal ravens which used to carry messages for the Kings of Erebor."

The raven called again, hopped from foot to foot, and then took wing, disappearing over the top of the canyon wall.

"Hope it's a good omen," Kíli murmured. "Feels like we need one." 

Tauriel pressed her upper arm against his shoulder, trying to give subtle reassurance. He smiled up at her under the dark sweep of his eyelashes, his eyes smoldering. Her belly warmed with an unexpected flash of desire and she wished very much for a moment of privacy in which they could kiss each other again.

Túrinor returned, reporting, "Your Majesty, the front gate appears to have been destroyed. By the look of the wreckage, the Dragon may have exited the mountain through the gate. A stone wall has been built inside the gate to close the gap."

"The Company must be alive!" Bofur said, beaming. Fíli and Kíli cheered, jostling Tauriel joyously between them. She was fairly sure anyone less resilient than an Elf or less tough than a Dwarf would have been bruised by the force of their affection.

"My friends, I hope that it is so, but Dwarves are not the only people of Middle Earth who build in stone," Bard pointed out.

"Return to the gate and keep watch," Thranduil ordered.

Saluting, Túrinor ran ahead of them along the canyon road again. 

The main group moved on more slowly, burdened with heavier armor and weapons than the scouts. The Dwarves had dumped the flashy, flimsy armor that the Master had given them soon after they'd arrived at Bard's house, but they had held onto the somewhat oversized swords. Tauriel wore her armor and green tunic and carried the daggers and bow that Legolas had brought to her in Lake-Town.

 _Legolas_ , Tauriel thought. _Where are you now, friend of my heart? What dangers do you face without me at your side?_ Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to push her worry aside and focus on the moment. A distracted warrior was soon a dead warrior.

After another mile or so, the canyon suddenly widened to a broad plateau in front of what once must have been Erebor's main gates. The massive statues above the gate were discolored and bore huge, ragged rents in the stone from dragon claws, but Tauriel could imagine how impressive it must have looked at Erebor's height.

They stopped for a moment to take in the sight. 

"I never thought it would be so grand," Kíli said, his eyes huge. Fíli seemed to be trying to keep his standard air of casual amusement intact, but even he looked quietly awed by the sight. Bofur whistled low and took his hat off respectfully.

"There, my lads, stands the Kings' Gate to Erebor, the last great Dwarf kingdom of Middle Earth," Óin said. The old healer looked sad and contemplative. Tauriel realized belatedly that he must have been a survivor of Smaug's attack on Erebor.

"May need some spring cleaning," Bofur said, pushing his hat back on his head. "Can't imagine Smaug was much for keeping the old place up."

Túrinor's report had been accurate. The central gate appeared to have been burst open from within, the huge metal doors hanging drunkenly from their massive hinges. A stone wall at least twenty feet tall stretched across the gaping hole in the gate. 

"That wall is new, and it's Dwarf work, too. No Orcs could build a wall like that," Bofur said proudly. 

"And so quickly," Bard said, eyes narrowing. 

"Could they really have built that in a day?" Tauriel asked. The wall was surprisingly solid-looking and even had simple crenellations at the top.

Fíli and Kíli exchanged uneasy glances. "Yes, it is possible," Fíli said. "But it would have demanded working all night and all day since Smaug smashed the gate in order to complete it."

"I'm sure Uncle is just worried about those Orcs coming back," Kíli said. 

Fíli did not look entirely convinced. Tauriel wished she could pull him aside to ask him what he was worried about, but Kíli was sticking tight to her side and she had the feeling Fíli would brush it off if his brother was present.

Túrinor ran back to meet them while his fellow remained stationed on the wide plaza in front of the gate. "No one has hailed us from inside yet, your highness."

The Dwarves hastened their pace, striding up the road like a group of grimly determined boulders. 

Soon they reached the plaza in front of the gate. The Dwarves crowded forward while the small troops of Man and Elf warriors stood arrayed behind their leaders. Tauriel tried to hang back with Bard but was pulled into the center of the group of Dwarves by Kíli.

"Hello the gate!" Fíli bellowed, cupping his hands to his mouth.

There was a brief silence, and then a familiar red-brown head of messy hair appeared on the wall. Hanging over the edge of the wall, Ori squeaked incoherently at first. Finding his voice, he shouted, "Hello to you! Hold on!" 

Ori turned to shout to someone inside the gate, but they could still easily hear him. "Fíli and Kíli and Óin and Bofur are here! And Lady Tauriel and Bard--" He took another look at them then added urgently, "And the Elven-King is with them!"

There was a pause of about half a minute before Bilbo poked his head over the edge of the wall between two crenellations. "Oh my goodness, it is such a relief to see you all!" He sounded out of breath, as if he had run to the wall. "I was so worried that Smaug would fly right to Lake-Town." 

"Your fears were not unfounded," Bard said, looking grim. "The dragon burnt Lake-Town to the waterline."

Bilbo gasped. "Oh no! I'm so sorry. Is Smaug still... out there?"

"Bard shot the beast right out of the sky," Bofur said. "You should have seen it! One shot, right to the chest."

"That would have been a sight to see!" Bilbo smiled, but he still looked pale and anxious to Tauriel's eyes.

Fíli interjected, "But what of Uncle and the rest of the Company? Was anyone injured when Smaug awoke?"

"We were all nearly fried to a crisp, but no, no one was seriously injured."

"That's wonderful news!" Kíli bounced on his heels.

"Yes, well..." Bilbo glanced over his shoulder nervously and leaned over the wall so far that Tauriel feared for his safety. Dropping his voice so that they could just barely hear him, he said, "Listen, before Thorin gets here, you should know that he's been in a foul temper since the dragon. Just...step carefully around him."

"What do you mean?" Fíli asked.

Bilbo began to respond, but glanced over his shoulder again and hastily straightened up and stepped back from the wall. A few moments later, Thorin appeared at the edge of the wall. Tauriel expected the rest of the Company to be with him, but only Dwalin and Balin stood behind Thorin.

"Uncle!" Kíli shouted, beaming with happiness.

Barely seeming to register the presence of his nephews, Thorin didn't even greet them before demanding, "Thranduil of Mirkwood and Bard of Lake-Town. What brings you to my doorstep?"

"We came to see what had become of you when Smaug awoke," Bard said, stepping forward. 

"As concerned neighbors, no doubt," Thorin sneered. "I would be more likely to believe your words if you had not come accompanied by armed warriors."

"These are dangerous lands," Thranduil said. "We would be foolish indeed to travel into an unknown situation entirely unprotected."

"Really? So you wish me to believe that you did not journey here thinking to steal the treasures of Erebor, unguarded now that the dragon is gone?" Thorin had never been warm, in Tauriel's experience, but now there was a cold glitter in his eyes that made her feel faintly uneasy.

"We are not here to steal anything," Bard said, crossing his arms.

"So you want nothing from me?" Thorin prompted.

Bard sighed and said evenly, "I only ask for that which is owed to Dale and Lake-Town. Smaug's treasure hoard was looted from Dale as well as Erebor and there is gold in it that rightfully belongs to the descendants of the Dale-Men. Beyond that, your actions woke the dragon and resulted in the destruction of Lake-Town and the loss of many lives. Surely you can see the justice in that."

"Justice? I see no justice here. I see scavengers hoping to grow fat on the leavings of Smaug," Thorin growled, gesturing harshly. "I see thieves who would steal the rightful heritage of the Dwarves of Erebor."

"Uncle!" Kíli protested. "Bard helped us when no one else would! He is no thief. He is an honorable Man."

"My sister-sons," Thorin said, cocking his head to the side in a disturbingly predatory manner. "Why do you come before me in the company of King Thranduil and his dogs?"

Kíli stiffened. Tauriel, sensing that an explosion was about to occur, put her hand on his arm to ground him. She regretted it a moment later when Thorin's eyes focused on her hand resting on his nephew's arm. 

"Or is it his bitch that I should be concerned with?"

There was an instant of complete silence. Tauriel heard Fíli say urgently, "Brother, don't."

Kíli took a deep breath and said in a voice that started out very controlled but quickly grew less so, "Uncle, I honor you and the love that you have shown to me and my brother, but if you ever, _ever_ say something like that about my _azyungel_ again--"

"Ask your new paramour where she was when King Thranduil turned away starving Dwarven women and children at the borders of Mirkwood." Thorin smiled mirthlessly.

The words hit Tauriel like daggers, finding her soft spots and digging deep. She cast her eyes down in shame. She remembered receiving the orders to close the borders when Smaug came. Her squad had been stationed in the southern part of Mirkwood, hunting giant spiders, and the news of Erebor's destruction had seemed very distant to her. She had never turned away the refugees of Erebor herself, but she had never questioned Thranduil's orders to close the borders either.

Thorin spat over the edge of the wall. "Do not fool yourself that an Elf sees you as anything but a pet." 

Stiffening her spine against the creeping, guilt-ridden memories, Tauriel stepped forward and met Thorin's eyes proudly. "Kíli is not anyone's pet. He is my love. We are _gwaedagûr_."

Thorin's laughter had an ugly edge. "Love, you claim? Elves do not love those they see as lesser--"

"Enough." Thranduil's voice snapped like a whip, though he still somehow managed to look vaguely bored. "I have no interest in bearing further witness to your family quarrel. Bard of the Line of Girion has the right to a portion of the treasure of Erebor, based both on inheritance and on the destruction which your recklessness caused to Lake-Town."

Tauriel felt her shoulders relax from their tight hunch as Thorin's unnerving focus switched to Thranduil.

"You do nothing from the kindness of your heart. What is it that you seek here, Thranduil King?" 

Thranduil shrugged elegantly. "I seek nothing but that which I am owed. A small casket of white gems, promised to me by King Thrór. I am sure that you remember the circumstances under which your grandfather reneged on his agreement."

"That you are _owed_?" Thorin's face flushed with anger. "You who turned away our people when they were starving, you will receive _nothing_ from the Dwarves of Erebor! I will not treat with the friends of Elves, nay, nor their _mabarûn_ either." 

Kíli's entire body flinched at that word and Tauriel heard him make a soft, pained noise.

"Leave and do not return!" Thorin shouted. "If you come before the gates of Erebor again you will be considered an enemy of our throne and you will be fired upon." He turned his back on them and began to walk away.

"Uncle!" Kíli cried out.

Thorin glanced over his shoulder, lip curling. "You are no sister-son of mine."

Tears running down his cheeks, Kíli collapsed to his knees as if he had been struck with a mortal wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Khuzdul:  
> azyungel - love of loves  
> gimlinh - star-lady  
> mabarûn - bed-man (implying a kept man or prostitute)
> 
> Sindarin:  
> fae - spirit (Sindarin term for fëa)  
> gwaedagûr - betrothed (Not a canon term! Created by combining gwaeda- [together] and gûr [heart].)  
> mellon nin - my friend  
> melui nin - my sweet  
> minui - first  
> rŷn - chasing hound


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Silvan Elf wedding customs I describe here are not canon. Neither is Legolas having an older brother, though I think it makes more sense than Thranduil sending his only heir with a message to Rivendell in FotR.

Tears running down his cheeks, Kíli collapsed to his knees as if he had been struck with a mortal wound.

Tauriel and Fíli both arrived at his side at the same moment, crouching to either side of him. " _Nadadith_ ," Fíli said quietly.

" _Meleth nin_ ," Tauriel breathed, laying her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Kíli said, stumbling to his feet and shrugging them off. "Don't fuss." He rubbed his arm across his eyes and turned away, his shoulders hunched. 

Tauriel bit her lip, looking up at Fíli who quickly shook his head. "Let him be," he murmured.

Standing, they rejoined Bard and Thranduil, who had been politely pretending to ignore them.

"I think we should retreat out of longbow range before discussing matters further," Bard said. "Just as a precaution."

Thranduil nodded. "I think that would be best."

Tauriel looked back at the wall as the group began marching away from the gates of Erebor. Only Bilbo remained visible on top of the wall, his face pinched with worry. As he noticed Tauriel looking in his direction, he carefully mouthed the word, "Later." Tauriel turned away without indicating she had noticed, aware that others might be watching from within Erebor.

They gathered by the bank of the little river, still able to see the gate but well out of longbow range. Kíli's face was dry but his eyes were dull and defeated. He had hardly looked this ill under the effects of the Morgul arrow. He stood quietly, not reacting as Tauriel and Fíli stood to either side of him. 

"Something is very wrong in Erebor," Fíli said. "Uncle Thorin can be harsh but that was beyond anything I've seen from him before." 

"Clearly Thorin Oakenshield has gone mad," Thranduil observed. "It is a sickness that runs in his bloodline."

"It is my bloodline as well," Fíli snapped, scowling. 

"Then you know that you should have a care lest it manifest itself in you." 

Fíli's face was thunderous but Tauriel could tell that Thranduil had meant that as helpful advice, even if it was phrased with his usual arrogance.

Bard coughed. "This idle speculation has no purpose. What are we going to do about Thorin Oakenshield if he has gone mad?"

"He is entrenched in Erebor and he will not agree to any bargains," Thranduil said.

Fíli shook his head. "I worry for the safety of the Company if Thorin is... not himself."

"Do you think he will harm them? Bilbo seemed very worried about Thorin's temper." Tauriel recalled the silent message Bilbo had given her. What had he meant by "later"?

"I wish I could say no, but..." Fíli spread his hands out helplessly. "I don't know. I hope not."

Bard narrowed his eyes, looking at Erebor's gates. "We may only need to wait him out. He has only the provisions that the Master gave them and I'm sure that was not much. We may not be able to take Erebor by force, but if we wait him out he will eventually be forced to either negotiate or starve."

"The Company will never let it get that far. Not even for Thorin's sake." Fíli sounded absolutely sure of that.

"We should send scouts by boat to meet the bulk of our forces where they march along the lakeshore and advise them of the situation," Thranduil said.

"They should take all three boats and return with supplies and more men." Bard caught Fíli's unhappy look and spread his hands out, adding, "You've already told us that you cannot predict your uncle's actions right now. We need to be prepared for whatever may happen."

"Agreed," Fíli said, though he looked like the word tasted sour in his mouth.

They set up camp on the bank of the river, erecting small tents that they had brought with them and collecting wood from the few scrubby trees that clung to life along the riverbank. The wood smoldered sullenly, giving a smoky fire that gave off little in the way of heat or light.

Kíli helped set up camp wordlessly. He avoided meeting anyone's eyes, even going so far as to walk away from both Fíli and Tauriel when they tried to approach him.

"Why will he not speak to me?" Tauriel asked Fíli quietly as Kíli walked away from them. "Does he believe his uncle's words about Elves being incapable of truly caring for mortals?"

"No, I'm sure that's not it." Fíli sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "He gets like this when he's really upset. He just needs some time on his own to think things through."

It troubled her greatly not to be able to comfort Kíli when he was so obviously in pain, but she nodded acquiescence to Fíli's advice.

Bard indicated that one of the tents would be reserved for the Dwarves. "And you as well, my lady. I would imagine that you have no desire to stay with the Mirkwood troops."

"I would certainly not be welcome if I did," Tauriel said, ignoring his attempt to smooth over the unpleasant truth. "I would request to stay with you if I am welcome," she said to Fíli, Óin, and Bofur. Kíli stood silently nearby, his eyes unfocused and his face grim.

"Of course you are!" Bofur slapped her on the shoulder so hard that she staggered slightly. "Like I told you, you're one of the Company now!"

Óin and Fíli agreed. Kíli still did not say anything, but she thought that his shoulders grew slightly less hunched.

Dinner was actually a very pleasant affair, despite the situation. The Mirkwood guards had all brought instruments, as was their custom. The Dwarves turned out to be surprisingly musically gifted, though their songs tended to be louder and more raucous than Elven music. Bofur led rounds of a song he said had been Bilbo's invention, something about beer and cows. 

Before long there was much merriment around the fire, with Bofur demonstrating a Dwarven dance to a few of the younger and more light-hearted of Thranduil's guards.

"Your folk are a lot more fun than those Rivendell Elves," Bofur said, throwing himself to the ground on Tauriel's other side. "They brought along wine! Got to appreciate that."

Kíli had been sitting silently between Fíli and Tauriel, speaking only when necessary in mumbled monosyllables. "I'm to bed," he said abruptly, standing up and walking away without another word.

"What did I say?" Bofur asked.

"It's not your fault," Fíli said. "Go filch us some of the Elvenking's wine, would you?" Bofur nodded, tapping the side of his nose with his index finger, and bounced to his feet again.

Tauriel stared after Kíli's retreating form as he ducked into their tent. "Should I follow him?"

Fíli shook his head. "Give him a little while to think."

"If you are certain."

"I am. Kíli has never responded well to being pushed to talk before he's ready." They sat in silence for a few minutes. It had started to snow lightly, big flakes drifting down from the sky and landing hissing in the campfire. With a pang, Tauriel remembered sitting on the balcony of the house in Lake-Town with Kíli, trading kisses in the snow.

"Hope the weather doesn't turn on us," Fíli said, squinting up at the sky. "I think the wind's getting colder."

Tauriel was immediately concerned. Mortal bodies were so fragile! "Are you cold? Should we move closer to the fire?"

"It's warm enough." Fíli paused and asked, "You truly don't feel the cold?"

She thought about it for a few moments. "The water of the lake became somewhat uncomfortable after I had been in it for a while."

He laughed under his breath. "Chunks of ice floating in it and you think it's a little chilly."

"Yes, and I saw you and Kíli walk straight through the flames with no ill effect when we were rescuing Bard from Lake-Town. Your hair did not even catch on fire."

"Forged by Mahal," he shrugged.

She cast around for some subject of conversation that had nothing to do with Thorin or Erebor. Unable to think of anything else, she asked the question that had been sitting at the back of her mind since the second day of their acquaintance. "Why did you stop disliking me?"

"What?" Fíli looked surprised. "I never _disliked_ you. I distrusted you. That's different."

"Fine, then why did you stop distrusting me?"

Fíli paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "All right. When you first joined us, I thought that you were a spy for King Thranduil. I was worried that you were going to use my little brother's affections to get information on the Company and then break his heart. But then there was the uproar about the hair braiding." 

"When all of you were so upset that my apprentice was braiding my hair."

"Right. You weren't kin so it wasn't proper. But you didn't understand that and you were confused and annoyed with the whole thing. Except that I was watching you and you kept on looking around for Kíli. You didn't understand why it was such a big deal, but you were worried because Kíli was unhappy. Then when he came back to talk to you I could see it in your face. You were in love with him."

"How could you see that? Even I did not know it yet."

"I'm good at reading people. I may not be particularly wise, but I can tell how people really feel. And you love my little brother. After that, well," he shrugged. "It became a lot easier to trust you, because I knew that both of us would die to protect him."

Tauriel felt her ear-tips flush bright red, ducking her head in embarrassment at hearing it so plainly stated. "Yes. I would."

"Tauriel, what does _gwaedagûr_ mean?" He stumbled over the foreign word, but she knew what he was trying to say.

"It means... something I should tell to Kíli before I tell any others. Although it is a bit late now, admittedly, since every Elf who heard me knows." She shook her head at her own foolishness, but there was no way she could have listened to Thorin Oakenshield's words and not protested her love for Kíli.

Fíli's eyebrows wrinkled. "Have you and my little brother gone and got married? Mam is going to kill him."

"No! Not... exactly." Though now that she had announced that they were betrothed in front of Thranduil (they were not kin, of course, but it was close enough to satisfy custom), there only remained one step before they were officially married.

Something Fíli had said bothered her. "Why would your mother kill him? Is it because I'm an Elf?"

"That part might throw her a little," Fíli said cautiously. "But I think mostly she'd be annoyed that she hadn't gotten to spend a year planning the wedding."

Tauriel's eyes widened. That sounded worrisome. How elaborate was a Dwarven wedding?

"I should go check on him," she said. "Do you think we've given him enough time?"

Fíli nodded. "Best of luck. He's liable to be snappish or sulky. Try not to take it personally."

With that ominous warning running through her head, she decided to walk by the river for a few minutes to clear her thoughts before she went to speak to Kíli. Outside the circle of light thrown by the campfire the night was very dark, the stars hidden by cloud cover. The snow quickly dampened the noise of revelry coming from the camp.

It was clear that she needed to tell Kíli that her people considered them as good as married. She would not hold him to a custom that he'd had no way to know, of course. But as for herself, she already knew that in all her long life she would have no other. 

Falling in love with a mortal was something that most Elves would consider a tragedy, but she could not consider it such. She loved Kíli. Whether they had two hundred years together or only a handful, she would not trade it for an eternity spent never having known him.

A voice spoke out of the darkness, familiar in its rich resonance. "A Dwarf for a betrothed, Tauriel of the Holly Tree Clan?" Thranduil spoke in Sindarin though he could easily switch languages in the middle of a sentence, just as Legolas and Tauriel tended to do when they spoke together.

"Kíli is my beloved. I do not care that he is a Dwarf." She raised her chin challengingly, not allowing herself to back down as Thranduil stepped close enough for her to see his expression. He looked calm and contemplative, his hands clasped together behind his back and his brow unwrinkled.

"I must confess, this is a development I did not predict," he said. "I thought that if you would announce a surprise betrothal to anyone, it would surely be my youngest son."

Tauriel shook her head, her brow wrinkling. "But you ordered me to discourage Legolas from any romantic thoughts he might have toward me."

"Yes, and I anticipated that this would cause rebellion in your young and foolish hearts. I thought that you would run off together, but I did not expect it would be to rescue a Dwarf."

"What? But you disdained my Silvan blood and told me I was not good enough for your son."

"I never said that. It is you who referred to yourself as a lowly Silvan Elf." A smile, cold and superior though it was, gleamed in King Thranduil's eyes. "I thought that you would push Legolas away and that this would finally light a fire in his belly, after long decades of mooning after you without saying a word to the purpose." 

"But why?"

"A union between my youngest son and a Silvan Clan Mother would have done much to finally bring our fractured realm together. I know that many of your people chafe under Sindar rule. Such a high-profile and romantic joining between the house of Oropher and a Silvan clan would have done much to abate that tension."

Tauriel stared at him. Had this been his plan all along, since the very day that he had fostered an orphaned Silvan baby girl in his household? "Was that all I was? A tool to be used?"

Thranduil gave a put-upon sigh. "No, you foolish child. I was--and am--fond of you, else I never would have put up with your insubordination for all of these years."

"Fond?" She laughed scornfully. "You _exiled_ me!"

"And you defied the orders of your King. I could not be seen to fail to punish you because of any personal fondness. I must remain strong in the eyes of my people."

She shook her head, despairing of ever understanding him. "So your master plan for getting Legolas to fall in love with me failed."

"The hearts of the young cannot be so easily predicted, as I have found." Thranduil shrugged elegantly. "Thorin Oakenshield's reaction to your betrothal to his nephew should be quite amusing to observe. Not for those directly involved, of course."

"Of course," she repeated, glaring at him.

"But I am sure you were on your way to join your betrothed. Do not let me delay you further, Clan Mother," he nodded with precise respect

"Your Majesty." She bowed to him, hoping that she had used the proper angle for speaking to a foreign monarch. Thranduil didn't react one way or the other, but that was no guarantee that she hadn't botched it.

Thranduil turned to go. They both froze as they heard a loud splashing sound coming from the river.

Tauriel fished an utterly bedraggled-looking Hobbit out of the river as the King observed the process from the riverbank. "Bilbo! What are you doing here?"

"I need to meet with Bard. I suppose that you and Fíli and Thranduil should be there too." Bilbo shivered as the wind gusted, blowing snowflakes around them. "It's urgent."

"I do not believe we have met," Thranduil said as they hurried towards the tents. 

Bilbo glanced up at him. "No, I'm afraid not. I am Bilbo Baggins, a Hobbit of the Shire."

"I am Thranduil Oropherion, King of the Woodland Realm."

"Lovely to finally meet you. I really must commend your chefs on their venison stew, by the way. It was delicious."

Thranduil stopped walking, staring after Bilbo with a perplexed expression. Tauriel ducked her head and hurried after the Hobbit, in no hurry to tell King Thranduil that she had no idea how Bilbo had bypassed all of his guards and penetrated to the heart of his palace.

They gathered in the largest tent on folding chairs set around a rickety table. Saying that it was impossible to argue with the old healer when he didn't want to listen, Fíli had sent Óin to fetch Kíli from his tent. Kíli came in without speaking at all, but Tauriel took a little comfort in the fact that he sat next to her closely enough that their upper arms were pressed together.

"You said that you had urgent news," Bard prompted when they were settled.

"I do. I hate to say this, but I believe that Thorin is no longer in control of his actions." Bilbo turned to Kíli and said earnestly, "He would never have spoken to you as he did if he were truly himself."

Kíli hunched in on himself, ducking his head. Below the cover of the table, Tauriel slid her hand to cover one of his, clenched in his lap. He turned his hand over and entwined his fingers with hers, squeezing hard.

"Madness runs in that bloodline." Thranduil had retrieved a goblet of wine somewhere between the river and the tent and sipped at it idly. Tauriel had no doubt that he was paying the utmost attention to everything going on around him.

"Yes, as you keep mentioning," Fíli gritted. "Do you think that is what is wrong with Thorin, Bilbo?"

Bilbo hesitated. "If there is a strain of madness in the line of Durin, I think that there is something in Erebor that may have... made it worse, or perhaps made it manifest at a younger age."

Fíli sat forward. "What is it?"

Biting his lip, the Hobbit drew a package out of his waistcoat, wrapped in torn fabric. He laid it on the wooden table and slowly unfolded the fabric. 

A glowing white gem the size of a Dwarf's fist was revealed, incongruous against the plain wood and moth-eaten fabric. Tauriel could swear that she could hear a faint humming, singing noise coming from the gem. She felt Kíli's entire body jerk as he made a soft noise of surprise.

"Bilbo! You stole the Arkenstone?" Fíli sounded as if he did not know whether what he felt was anger or admiration.

Bilbo shrugged, wincing. "It was the only way make sure that Thorin would not find it."

"So this is what you believe is driving Thorin Oakenshield mad," Thranduil said, narrowing his eyes at the Arkenstone. He reached out his hand and held it about six inches away from the stone, his head tilting to the side thoughtfully and his eyes fluttering closed.

"I can sense that it does have a magical aura, thought its nature is unfamiliar to me. If it does have the power to corrupt then mounting it above his throne was definitely Thror's worst idea. But I do not know that there is a compelling reason to believe it has any such powers." Thranduil's eyes opened as he added, "Unless you possess knowledge of the Arkenstone that we do not, Master Hobbit?"

"Smaug said that it would corrupt his heart and drive Thorin mad. I know that Smaug could have been lying to me, but I don't believe that he was. At the time, he thought he had me at his mercy and he fully intended to kill me. He had no reason to lie."

"What is it that you intend to do with the Arkenstone?" Fíli asked.

Bilbo hesitated. "I thought at first that I would give it to Bard so that he could trade it for the treasure owed to Lake-Town. But I truly fear what Thorin will do with the Arkenstone influencing him. He has already gone further than I ever thought he would," he said, glancing at Kíli's bent head and then meeting Tauriel's eyes sympathetically.

Kíli did not visibly react but his fingers tightened on hers. She slid her other hand over so that she could stroke the back of his hand, hidden from the others' sight by the table.

"We may not need to trade anything," Bard said. "How long do you think their food supplies will last? We may be able to out-wait them and force a surrender from Thorin Oakenshield without any violence."

"Hmm, I'd say not more than a week or so. Our supplies of _cram_ \--that's Dwarven waybread--were already beginning to run low. Once this is over, if I never eat _cram_ again, it'll be too soon!" Bilbo sighed. "But I suppose it's back to it for me."

"Bilbo, no!" Tauriel exclaimed. "You cannot mean to return to Thorin after stealing the Arkenstone from him. I hate to think what he would do to you if he were to find out."

"If I do not try, I will never know if Thorin could have been convinced to be reasonable. He can be harsh and proud, but underneath it all he has a good heart. I have to try." A hint of mischief flickered across Bilbo's face. "Don't worry, you already know how good I am at escaping from heavily guarded fortresses."

Tauriel very carefully did not look at Thranduil.

"I can see that you are fully set on this path and will not be dissuaded," Bard said. "Be careful, Master Hobbit."

Tauriel leaned forward, meeting Bilbo's gaze beseechingly. "At the first sign of trouble, please flee from Erebor. Do not tarry."

"And don't let your fondness for my uncle blind you from danger, either," Fíli added. "He is not himself right now."

Bilbo nodded, his eyes somber. "Trust me, I know. I will be careful."

"Who should take the Arkenstone into their protection?" Bard asked. 

Everyone looked at Fíli, who shook his head. "If the Arkenstone has the power to corrupt and drive mad those who hold it, then I am the last person who should be in possession of it." He looked like it physically pained him to ask, "King Thranduil, would you take the Arkenstone into your care for now? Of all of us, you are least likely to fall under its sway, since you are well-versed in magic."

Thranduil inclined his head to Fíli. "I will begin work on devising a way to contain its magical aura, thus rendering it harmless."

"You have my thanks." Fili inclined his head in what looked like genuine gratitude. Tauriel spared a thought to hope that this might lead to greater cooperation between Mirkwood and Erebor in the future, if not actual friendship.

"I should head back to Erebor before I am missed," Bilbo said.

Bard offered to escort him as far as the plaza and the Hobbit departed with a chorus of best wishes and reminders to flee the moment anything seemed amiss.

Tauriel followed Kíli closely as he left the tent. "Kíli," she said quietly as he started to walk away from her. 

He paused, turning to face her. Though he did not look encouraging, at least he had not ignored her. 

"Would you walk with me by the river? Please," she added, trying to put all of her longing into that word.

Kíli hesitated. "Very well," he said in a rusty-sounding voice.

The snow was still coming down, large fluffy flakes starting to build up on the ground. The snow clung to her cloak and his oversized coat as they walked. 

Tauriel gathered her thoughts, picking her words carefully. "It is not true, what your uncle said about Elves being unable to care for mortals. I do not consider you to be lesser than I because you are mortal."

Kíli did not say anything. She bit her lip, twisting her hands together. Speaking about emotions was much more difficult than picking one's way across uncertain terrain in a spider nest, she decided, though the feelings of uncertainty and terror were quite similar. 

"Your brother asked me what _gwaedagûr_ meant and I told him that I needed to tell you first." She glanced over at Kíli but could not read the emotions on his face. She took a deep breath before continuing, "The term means "heart-together." It means that I have given you my heart and I will have no other, to the end of my days."

Kíli had stopped walking and was now staring at her with his mouth hanging open. 

"Say something," she pleaded.

" _Gimlinh_ , are you telling me that we're married?" 

He sounded shocked, but she could not tell if it was a pleasant or unpleasant sort of shock. "Not quite. There is one more thing you would need to do to for us to be considered truly married."

He continued staring at her. She could see him swallow hard before he said in a strangled-sounding voice, "Go on."

"I have told my kin that we are _gwaedagûr_. You would also need to tell your kin that we are getting married in order to complete the ceremony." She paused and then said in a rush, "But only if you want to. You had no way to know what pledging your love under the light of the stars meant. I will not hold you to it if you do not want to marry me."

Kíli shook his head, a smile beginning in his eyes and slowly spreading across his face. "Tauriel, you are my _azyungel_. Of course I want to marry you," he said, pulling her into his arms. 

She bit her lip as she looked down at him. "You do?"

"Yes! I will carve it on the peak of the Lonely Mountain in ten-foot-tall letters if you want me to. Yes, I want to marry you!" 

Tauriel leaned her head down until their foreheads pressed together. Closing her eyes, she whispered, "I love you, Kíli."

"I love you, Tauriel." His hands were warm as he cupped the sides of her face, brushing his lips against hers softly once, twice, and then sweetly pressing deeper. She slid her arms around him under his coat, feeling the thick muscles of his back shift as he pulled her closer, a hand cupping the back of her neck while the other played softly through the length of her hair. 

At last Kíli pulled back a little, sliding his arms down to circle her waist. "Getting distracted," he grinned. "All right, so there's one last step until we're married. Are there any rules about how I should tell my kin?"

"Not really. Many choose to tell their families under the starlight and have a feast afterward, but that is not required. All that is necessary is that the families must be informed."

Kíli released her and stepped back a pace. With a low bow and an unusually serious expression on his face, he asked, "Tauriel of _Eregnoss_ , may I, Kíli son of Dis and Víli, put my family's braids in your hair?"

The words had the feeling of ritual and tradition to them. "I would be honored," she said with an answering bow.

They found a boulder of the correct height and Tauriel sat down on it while Kíli stood behind her. She felt his fingers loosening her hair out of its customary braids. "Your hair is so beautiful," he said as he ran his fingers through it.

She made a face. "It is well enough, I suppose, except for the color."

"What's wrong with the color?" He sounded offended on her behalf.

"It is just...very red. An ugly color. Some consider it ill-omened, even."

He made a disgusted-sounding noise. "Anyone who considers it ugly or ill-omened is an idiot and not worth your time."

She could not help the smile that spread across her face. "Thank you, _melui nin_." There was silence but for the faint sounds of music from the camp for a few minutes as Kíli braided her hair. "I have noticed that you never wear braids in your hair. Why is that?"

"Never saw a point to it. Fíli's braids say that he's the heir to the throne. I never had anything important to say. But I'll show you how to braid these into my hair, so that everyone will know we are married."

"I would like that very much." 

She felt him kiss the crown of her head. "I wish I had beads to finish the braids off with, but this will have to do for now. I'll make mithril and emerald beads, I think, to match your eyes." 

Kíli stood in front of her and offered her his hands, pulling her close as she stood up and wrapping his arms around her. A smile bloomed in his eyes and spread across his face. "There, that will do it. Any Dwarf who sees you with these braids in your hair will know that we are married." 

"Then we are wed," she whispered, kissing his smile. "I love you, Kíli."

"I love you, Tauriel."

"I only hope that you do not grow to regret it. Your uncle--"

"Hush. My uncle's words have no place here. I would give up a thousand kingdoms before I would give up our love." Kili kissed her softly and added with great relish, "My wife."

"You seem to enjoy saying that." She leaned down to press their foreheads together.

"I do. You know what I would enjoy hearing you say even more?"

"My husband," she guessed.

"Aye, that's the one."

Laughing, they kissed as snow continued to fall around them. Covering the dragon-scoured rock with a blanket of pure and unsullied white, the snow temporarily transformed the Desolation into a place of beauty and peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:
> 
> Khuzdul:  
> azyungel - love of loves  
> gimlinh - star-lady  
> nadad - brother  
> nadadith - little brother
> 
> Sindarin:  
> Eregnoss - Holly Tree Clan  
> meleth nin - my love  
> melui nin - my sweet  
> gwaedagûr - betrothed (Not a canon term; created by combining gwaeda- [together] and gûr [heart].)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence that could be interpreted as attempted murder between two named characters. The end notes have the full (spoilery) explanation if you would like to know what to expect ahead of time.

Finally Tauriel and Kíli had to admit that they needed to return to camp or else risk turning into snowdrifts. As it was they were both covered with a thick coating of soft snow, sticking to their outer layers and beginning to melt around their faces. 

They stood with their foreheads pressed together, unwilling yet to move. "I feel terrible that your uncle disowned you over me," she said, the words forcing themselves out even though he had said that his uncle's words had no place there.

Kíli sighed. "Honestly, I never wanted the throne. Terrified of even the possibility of inheriting it, actually. Fíli is better suited to it. He's a natural leader, always has been."

"Still, I am sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." He kissed her softly and then pulled back to smile at her. "Besides, now I'm a Clan Mother's husband. What's that involve, exactly?"

She brushed snow off of his hair where it peeked out beneath his hood. "I'll tell you all about it on the way back to camp."

"I wish there was somewhere that we could be alone. Um, not _just_ for...that," he said, turning faintly pink.

She smiled at him, admiring the way the pink spread across his cheekbones. "I also wish that, for I would dally with you all night if we only had the privacy. But they will worry if we do not return to camp."

"All night?" He tugged her down into a kiss that she suspected would be bruising for anyone less resilient than an Elf. They were both breathing heavier by the time the kiss ended. "Tomorrow night we are getting some privacy. I don't care if we have to sneak into Erebor to manage it. "

She could not have agreed more and told him so emphatically.

Fortunately the walk back to camp was cold and long enough that both of them were fit for company by the time they made it back to the campfire.

Bofur spotted them first and gave out a cheer. "Bless me, the wanderers have returned!" He sounded like he had been imbibing liberally of the Elven wine.

Fíli was the first one to get a close look at them. His eyes widened as he saw Tauriel's braids. She met his eyes, feeling shy and worried about his reaction. 

"Come here," he said, holding out a hand to both of them. Tauriel walked over hand-in-hand with Kíli, not entirely sure what to expect. She certainly did not expect Fíli to fold them both into a slightly awkward (considering the height difference) group hug.

"May Mahal's bright forge light your path through the darkness," Fíli said. "Brother." The two Dwarves knocked foreheads together with a force that made Tauriel wince.

"Sister," Fíli said, laughing--not unkindly--at the look on her face. He leaned up and she leaned down and between the two of them they managed to knock foreheads together relatively gently.

"Brother?" she asked, not meaning to make it a question. Fíli nodded gravely at her. Kíli was grinning so widely that his eyes were squeezed into crescent shapes. "Brother," she repeated, hoping that the lighting was too poor for anyone to see the tears prickling in her eyes.

They walked over to the fire together, Fíli strutting ahead of Kíli and Tauriel with his thumbs tucked into his belt, as if he were showing off something that he'd created. She supposed he had a right to feel a little smug about it, since it had been Fíli's advice to his brother that made Kíli approach her after all of the uproar over her apprentice braiding her hair. How long ago that seemed now!

Bofur's mouth dropped open the minute he got a clear look at Tauriel's braids. "By my beard, Kíli, what have you done? Dwarves and Elves ain't supposed to mix that way."

Óin smacked him on the back of the head. "Hold your tongue, lad, if you don't have anything sensible to say."

Turning back to Kíli and Tauriel, Óin said, "I would like to offer my congratulations to the new couple." He chuckled. "Don't look so surprised--I may be old and creaky now, but I still remember what it was like to be young and in love. You two have a rough enough road to walk, there's no call for us to make it harder."

"You have my thanks," Tauriel said, nodding deeply to him. Óin had never spoken of a wife before. "Your wife, is she...?"

"Husband, actually. He died the day of the dragon. Damn fool of a Broadbeam, never did learn not to run towards a fire." Despite the harshness of his words, there was a softness to Óin's voice that she had never heard before. "You never know when the dragon's going to come, lass. Hold onto happiness when you find it."

Tauriel impulsively took his hand and pressed it between hers. "Thank you, Óin."

"Hmmph. Go on now," he said, the expression on his face not nearly as grumpy as he sounded.

"What's going on?" Bard asked, walking over carrying a tin mug. From the relaxed look on his face, Tauriel guessed that the mug held something much more potent than water.

"Tauriel and Kíli just got married," Fíli announced.

Bard's eyebrows raised. "What, just now?" At their nods he broke into a grin. "Well, I don't know how you do it in Mirkwood or among the Dwarves, but in Lake-Town there would be a celebration with drinking and dancing after a wedding. We've got the drinking covered, now we just need music for dancing."

Bofur bounced to his feet and then swayed a little. "I've got the music covered," he said, producing a battered-looking recorder from his pocket. "Get on with the dancing!"

Kíli extended a hand to Tauriel. She took it, frowning dubiously at him. "I do not know Dwarven dancing."

"It's easy, just spin around and kick a lot."

"If you say so..."

It turned out that they were both terrible at dancing, whether Dwarven or Elven-style, but they had such a wonderful time being completely awful at dancing that it did not matter one bit.

***

The morning brought a shift in the weather, clear blue skies and brilliant sunlight reflecting from the snow-covered ground, and news in the form of a travel-weary Legolas.

Tauriel had been gathering firewood by the river and was the first to spot him approaching on the road that led up the river from the ruins of Dale. Running to greet him on fleet feet across the snowdrifts, she called, " _Mellon_! Glad I am to see your face once more."

For a moment she was afraid that he would not stop his horse to speak with her. He had been very angry when he left Lake-Town, after all. 

But he did not seem angry now, only grim-faced with some inner purpose. " _Mellon nin_ , I bring grave news from the south. I must speak with my father and the leaders of the Dwarves and Men immediately."

"What is it?"

He shook his head. "Better to share this news only once. Tauriel, my heart is gladdened to see you. Your apprentice assured me that you had survived the burning of Lake-Town but I could not feel fully reassured until I beheld your face."

"I could say the same, for while I had heard from your father that you had passed into southern Mirkwood hunting Orcs, they had not received any word since. I was worried about you."

"It would take more than a mere Orc pack to do me in."

He smiled and raised his chin with his usual bravado, but she could see the shadow of fear in his eyes. What had he found on his journey south?

They reconvened the unofficial council of Bard, Fíli, Kíli, Thranduil, and Tauriel in the large tent that had become a sort of makeshift council room.

Tauriel was already seated between Legolas and Kíli (a seating arrangement that seemed to please neither of them) when Thranduil entered the tent. She saw a flash of naked joy cross his face as he saw his son. Legolas crossed the tent to greet him and Thranduil rested his hand on Legolas's shoulder as they spoke quietly.

"I'm not overly fond of Legolas, but even I think that's cold. Sees his son after he returns from a dangerous journey and barely even reacts," Kíli muttered.

"What do you mean?" Tauriel asked. Thranduil seemed almost overcome with relief to her, his hand gripping his son's shoulder tightly and his eyes warm with affection.

"Well, I mean he just--didn't even hug him." Kíli seemed as confused by her reaction as she was by his. She tried to imagine King Thranduil hugging anyone and found her mind refusing to even picture it.

"He is being affectionate, believe me." There was no time to explain before the others joined them at the table and all opportunity for private conversation was gone.

"I chased the Orc pack from Lake-Town back into Mirkwood, where they turned south," Legolas told the assembled group. "Along with a troop of Forest Guards, I followed the Orcs through the southern mountains toward the abandoned fortress of Dol Guldur." Tauriel and Thranduil both stirred uneasily at the name. 

"Before the pack reached Dol Guldur, they were met by an army moving north from the ancient citadel. Azog the Defiler is leading a huge army of Orcs and Wargs, well-organized, with iron forged weapons and armor. They are headed straight for Erebor."

Tauriel gasped. "That route will take them past the lake shore farms." _Cirdolas_. She had left her apprentice behind at Nadra's farm thinking he would be safe there. Unarmed and barely trained, he was now sitting directly in the path of an Orc army.

Bard blanched and she knew he was thinking of his children. "The lake shore farms are defenseless. The refugees will be overrun by Orcs. We must evacuate them."

"They have already begun their evacuation," Legolas reassured him. "Last night I met with a woman named Nadra who is in command of the refugees. She will have started evacuating the Lake-Men by boat at first light this morning. The first boats should reach the north shore of the lake by mid-day.

"I rode on from the lakeshore farms and caught up with the forces of Men and Elves still making their way around the lake by foot. They have begun a forced march to Erebor."

"And then what?" Kíli asked. "Everyone will still be in the path of the Orc army, if it is headed to Erebor."

"Fíli, do you think there is any chance we could convince your uncle to give the refugees shelter in Erebor itself?" Bard asked.

"I dearly wish that I could say yes." Fíli looked almost ill as he continued, "But as Thorin currently is, I cannot predict _what_ he will do."

Thranduil shook his head. "We cannot plan on being able to shelter the Lake-Men in Erebor." 

"You're right, blast it." Bard smacked his hand on the table in frustration. "How long would you say that we have?"

"A few days at most. Orcs mounted on Wargs move quickly. We were barely able to stay ahead of them in the mountains," Legolas said.

"What about taking shelter in Dale?" Tauriel asked. "The city is ruined but its outer walls looked relatively intact to me."

"Tauriel is right. I got a good look at the city as we passed and it did not look like Smaug had bothered with the outer walls. Why would he, when he could just fly over them?" Bard frowned, stroking his chin in thought. "That might just work."

"We should at least ask my uncle if he will help the refugees," Fíli said. "He may be more willing to be reasonable if he knows we are facing an army of Orcs. Even if the city's outer walls are intact, Erebor is still more defensible than Dale."

Kíli was silent, staring down at the table with a muscle ticking in his cheek. Tauriel hated to ask Thorin for anything after his cruel words to Kíli at the gate, but Fíli was right. Erebor was highly defensible. Dale had to be their last resort.

"We should ask Thorin for parley now, without delay. We are running short on time." Bard looked grim.

As they marched once more to the gates of Erebor, Tauriel walked close to Kíli, pressing her arm against his in a silent show of support. 

"I'm fine, _gimlinh_ ," he muttered.

"Perhaps your uncle will be more open to reason, now that the Arkenstone is further from him."

"Perhaps," Kíli said with a failed attempt at a smile.

Nori and his brother Dori were at watch at the gate. The ginger-haired Dwarf raised a hand in casual greeting. "Morning."

Dori glared at his brother, then turned his glare on the rest of them. "State your business."

"We have come to request an audience with Thorin Oakenshield," Bard said.

"I shall need to check with His Majesty whether he is receiving visitors today. What may I inquire is the reason for the visit?"

"We have come to warn my uncle of an army of Orcs and Wargs headed straight for Erebor," Fíli said impatiently. 

Nori seemed to go completely still for a moment. "Go fetch His Majesty, would you Dori?"

Dori, grumbling, did as he'd asked. Nori waited for his brother to get out of earshot and then leaned down, asking in a hushed tone, "How many Orcs and Wargs are we talking about, eh?"

"Several hundred at least. Perhaps a thousand," Legolas said.

The ginger Dwarf whistled through his teeth. "Balls," he said succinctly.

They waited in silence for several more minutes. Tauriel wondered if Thorin would even see them or would simply turn them away without an audience.

At length Thorin appeared with Dwalin and Balin flanking him and Bilbo trotting behind. "What lies are you selling now, Elvenking?" Thorin demanded.

"I have no need to sell you anything," Thranduil sneered. Tauriel desperately hoped this wasn't going to turn into an insult-slinging session.

"We have received news that a large, well-armed Orc army is on the move from southern Mirkwood to Erebor, led by Azog the Defiler," Bard said.

"No mere Orc army will breach the gates of Erebor."

"I agree with you, but my people have no such defenses since Smaug burned Lake-Town. We have come to you to ask you to give shelter to the refugees of Lake-Town." Bard spoke simply and calmly, not reacting to the sneer on Thorin's face.

"Clearly this is just a ruse thought up by King Thranduil to get your people into Erebor, so that you can steal the Arkenstone."

"I have no desire for your gaudy Dwarvish bauble," Thranduil said, crossing his arms. "Are you so set on your delusions that you will abandon the Lake-Men to torment and death?"

"As you abandoned _my people_ after the dragon came!" Thorin roared. "We were starving and you turned us away!"

Tauriel saw Thranduil flinch at the accusation. Did he feel guilt for turning away the refugees of Erebor? She wasn't sure how to interpret the look in his eyes. It was gone in a flash and then the King was as cold and opaque as always. 

"Very well, I see we will make no progress here." Thranduil spun on his heel, coat swirling around him.

"Wait!"

That was Bilbo's voice. Tauriel stared up at him, worried that the Hobbit was going to do something very foolish.

Bilbo cleared his throat. "Thorin, you value the Arkenstone above all else."

"Clearly more than his family," Kíli muttered.

"Would you give the Lake-Men sanctuary in return for the Arkenstone?"

Thorin rounded on the Hobbit, looming over him with clenched fists. "What have you done, Burglar?"

Bilbo retreated a half-step and then rallied, straightening his shoulders resolutely. "I did this to protect you, Thorin. I want you to remember that."

"What have you done?" Thorin was almost shouting by the last word.

"I gave the Arkenstone to Bard. You can count it as my portion of the treasure."

Thorin advanced on the Hobbit, backing him up until Bilbo's back was pressed to the battlement. "You little thief! You lack all honor! We trusted you, and you have given the treasure of my people to its enemies!" Thorin towered over Bilbo, his face suffused with rage.

"I did it to help you!"

"To help us?" Thorin picked up Bilbo by his collar and pressed him back against the battlement. "I would rather have a thousand enemies like Azog the Defiler than one _friend_ like you!"

"Bilbo, no!" Tauriel cried, seeing the Hobbit's arms pinwheel helplessly as he was bent backwards over the wall.

"The Hobbit has been a far better friend to you than you deserve. Put him down, you fool," Thranduil snapped.

"He is nothing but a thief and a liar. If you like him so well, you may have him!" Thorin lifted Bilbo by his collar, shook him like a cat with a rat, and threw him over the side of the wall.

Time slowed down. Tauriel was aware of Bilbo's terrified scream as she ran to the wall, though she knew already that she was too far away. She saw the others throw themselves forward but no one was close enough to catch him. Bilbo was going to die, brains dashed out against the rocks.

Thranduil moved so swiftly that he seemed to blur, catching Bilbo just before the Hobbit hit the ground and depositing him neatly on his own two feet.

The Hobbit swayed, gasping, "Thank you."

Thranduil shrugged elegantly. "Do not mention it." He clasped his hands behind his back, staring up at Thorin with an aggressively blank expression.

Thorin's eyes swept coldly over the group below him, not even hesitating on his nephews. "Do not darken my doorstep again or arrows will be the only greeting you will receive." He turned his back on them and strode away, disappearing behind the wall. Dwalin and Balin followed him.

After a moment, Nori's distinctive hair popped up over the battlement. "Bilbo! Are you alright?" he hissed.

Still looking shaken, Bilbo answered, "Oh yes, quite alright! Just a bit of excitement, that's all."

"Glad to hear that." Nori jerked his head to the side, seeming to react to a noise from within Erebor. "Stay safe, Master Burglar," he said with a nod before disappearing behind the wall.

"Let us return to camp before Thorin makes good on his threat," Bard said to a chorus of general agreement.

Tauriel let the bulk of the group move ahead of them as she and Kíli dropped back a bit. "Are you alright?" she asked once they had a small amount of privacy.

Kíli's jaw clenched. "He didn't even look at me. It's like I wasn't even there to him."

"I am so sorry, Kíli," she said, sick at heart that Thorin would treat his own nephew this way.

The smile he aimed up at her was twisted with pain. "There is nothing that you should be sorry for. I would make the same decision a thousand times over."

"As would I." After casting a glance back at Erebor to make sure they were out of longbow range, she stopped to kiss him thoroughly.

"I love you, _gimlinh_ ," Kíli said, resting his forehead against hers.

" _Meleth nin_. I love you."

The unofficial council, now including Bilbo as well as Legolas, gathered once more after returning to camp.

"We must withstand the Orc army from within the walls of Dale. We have not nearly enough men or arms to do so easily. The task before us is a difficult one, perhaps impossible, and yet we must do it." Bard sounded like a King in that moment, stern and grave yet able to stir loyalty in the hearts of all that heard him. Tauriel hoped that he would someday have the chance to be King of Dale in truth.

"I will send messengers to my realm to send reinforcements," Thranduil announced.

Everyone stared at him for a moment.

"You have always told me that other realms are not our concern," Tauriel accused.

Thranduil tapped his fingertips gently on the table. "Recent events have caused me to re-evaluate the strategic value of isolationism, Clan Mother Tauriel. A strong and stable ruler in the City of Dale reborn would be of benefit to the Woodland Realm." He seemed obscurely amused by something. Tauriel did not think that she would ever truly understand him.

Fíli looked openly dubious. She could understand his doubts, considering how determined Thranduil had always been to ignore the plight of the world outside of Mirkwood.

"On behalf of the Men of Dale, I would welcome renewed diplomatic ties with the Woodland Realm. And new diplomatic ties with Clan _Eregnoss_ ," Bard added, nodding to Tauriel.

"Clan _Eregnoss_ would welcome the friendship of the Lord of Dale," she said after a moment of verbal fumbling. Despite her declaration of autonomy from the Woodland Realm, she was not yet accustomed to thinking of herself as the leader of an actual clan.

"Well, it is wonderful to see neighbors getting along so well! We'd best get to work, though, or else all of these fine sentiments are going to be worth the vellum they're written on," Bilbo said.

The small forces of Men and Elves packed up the camp with military efficiency. Tauriel found Bilbo standing on the periphery of the hustle and bustle.

"Bilbo, I am so relieved that you were unharmed by your fall."

"As am I! I must say, my whole life flashed before my eyes while I was falling and _entirely_ too much of it involved dealing with my awful relatives." Bilbo smiled as he spoke but he could not hide the echo of remembered terror in his eyes.

"I can scarcely believe that Thorin Oakenshield did that to you. I was afraid that no one would catch you in time."

"And yet it was the Elvenking who caught me. Strange, considering my previous impression of him as not caring about anything but his own interests."

"King Thranduil rarely stirs himself for anything that does not directly affect his kingdom, but he can be reasonable if you do not pose a threat to the Woodland Realm." She was not quite sure how to explain Thranduil, who could be cold and uncaring for the plight of anyone not directly under his protection and yet cared fiercely for the protection of the Woodland Realm.

"He is a mystery, that's for sure. But what is this I hear about you being a Clan Mother?"

She tried to think of a simple way to explain it but came up blank. "That is a very long story, my friend."

"I hope that we will have time for the telling of long tales after all of this is over. Perhaps you could come visit the Shire." Bilbo bounced on his heels, the picture of cheerfulness despite his recent brush with death.

She smiled at him, feeling a surprising fondness for the small, brave Hobbit. "I would enjoy that. I think that Kíli would as well."

"Ah." Bilbo's eyebrows shot up. "I take it then that he has declared himself?"

"I am not sure what that means. Kíli and I were married last night, if that is what you mean."

"Congratulations!" Bilbo beamed up at her. Tauriel, caught off-guard by his enthusiasm, smiled back at him cautiously. "Who did you have stand up for the wedding?"

She had no idea what he meant by that. "Well, we were...standing on the lakeshore," she fumbled.

"Tauriel, may I speak to you? Alone?" Legolas asked.

"Ah, you go on," Bilbo said. "I need to talk to Bard for a bit."

She and Legolas walked together a short distance away from the camp, just far enough to give them some privacy.

"Tauriel, what have you done? I heard you tell him that you have married the Dwarf."

"His name is Kíli. And yes, we are married. I love him."

"Friend of my heart," he said, switching to Sindarin, "I worry that this decision will only bring you pain. He is mortal, and doomed to die a mortal death."

"Do you think there is any way that I do not know that with every part of my being?" she answered in the same language. "My heart aches at the thought, but I will treasure the time with him that I am given."

Legolas closed his eyes briefly. "And what will happen to you when he dies? You will fade, Tauriel, and I will have to watch it happen."

"I am sorry for that, Legolas. But my friend, you must remember that we Silvans do not fear fading as your people do," she said, touching his hand. "We know that we will become one with the forest when we fade. Please accept that this is what I have chosen."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "For the love I bear you, I will try to accept it."

"That is all I ask. That, and could you please try to be a little less hostile to Kíli in the future?"

"You ask much of me." He sighed, but there was a faint smile in his eyes. "I will try."

"Legolas! Come here," Thranduil called from the other side of camp.

"I must go." Legolas caught her hand in his. "I am sorry for doubting you, Tauriel. I wish only for you to be happy."

"My heart rejoices that I still hold your friendship."

"You will never lose it."

"Nor you, mine." She glanced past him and saw the look on King Thranduil's face. "You had best attend upon your father before he catches fire from sheer annoyance."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at her. "Perhaps that would spare me from the fatherly lecture I can sense coming on."

Smiling, Legolas gave her hand a squeeze before striding off to deal with his deeply annoyed-looking father.

Tauriel went to find Kíli and discovered him sitting nearby on a boulder, trying to look like he hadn't been paying any attention to them. Shaking her head, she sat next to him.

"Did you two have a good talk?" he asked, his voice deliberately casual.

She sighed and leaned against his shoulder. Kíli, seemingly solid as stone when he did not want to move, did not even shift at the additional weight.

"He worries about me. Older brothers are like that."

"Brother?" Kíli looked dubiously from her bright red hair to Legolas's pale blond.

"He is my brother, even if not in blood."

Hearing that, a great deal of tension went out of Kíli's body. "Good, that's...good." 

Tauriel smiled privately but decided not to tease him about his jealousy. Kíli had had a difficult few days. "I asked him to be less hostile to you, and I will ask of you the same."

Kíli scowled. "Very well," he said reluctantly. " _If_ he is really willing to be less of a _mahumbûn_."

"Thank you." 

They stayed leaning against each other for as long as they could, until the camp was packed up and they began the march to Dale.

She realized as they turned off the main road to the branch that led to the gates of Dale that the city was further from the road than it had seemed. As they neared the ruined city, it grew larger and larger until it was looming above them against the sky. 

"We may have to rethink the idea of holding the entire city," she admitted.

Bofur whistled, pushing his hat to the back of his head. "Aye, not without an army."

"Suggestions?" Bard asked. "Perhaps there's a smaller section we could hold. I know the Lord of Dale had a palace--maybe we could make that defensible."

"The first time my emissaries visited Dale, it was barely more than a collection of huts clustered around a hillfort within an earthworks," Thranduil said. "The hillfort and earthworks were built up and expanded over the next few centuries. Though it fell into disuse once the Lord of Dale built the new palace, the original fortifications were never torn down. I believe we may be able to hold that redoubt against the Orcs."

Fíli looked grudgingly impressed. "The fortifications would have been designed to shelter the entire population of the early city within its walls in case of an attack. It should be large enough to shelter the refugees of Lake-Town."

"You remember how Dale looked hundreds of years ago?" Bard was staring at Thranduil in awe.

"I never visited the filthy place myself of course, but my emissaries' reports were very detailed." Thranduil flicked a speck of dirt off the cuff of his coat.

"Oh, of course not. How foolish of me." 

Thranduil seemed entirely oblivious to the sarcasm in Bard's tone.

They picked their way along what appeared to have been the main thoroughfare, now choked with piles of crumbled masonry. Tauriel was shocked to see that some of the debris was actually scattered bones and bits of armor lying in the streets. 

"Did your ancestors not bury their dead?" She realized a moment too late that that was probably not the most tactful way to phrase the question.

"They couldn't." Bard looked grim. "The survivors fled from Dale with only what they could carry on their backs. The dead were left where they fell. And here they have stayed, for the terror of Smaug's wrath was so great that no Man dared to return to the ruins of Dale while the dragon still lived."

"Erebor is probably like that inside. Unless the dragon ate..." Kíli darted a glance at Óin and shut his mouth with a snap, apparently remembering a little late that the old healer's husband had been among the dead.

"Now that the dragon is gone, our dead can be buried properly. And for those whose bodies will never be found, we will burn incense in their memory." Óin sounded like he had long ago made peace with that possibility.

Their voices were quiet and hushed as they walked. The city seemed like a tomb, covered with a fresh blanket of snow that muffled their footsteps. Tauriel was relieved to see the footprints of small animals in the snow, proof that something still lived within the empty city, even if it was only hares and foxes.

A raven landed on the broken stones of a collapsed archway and called harshly before launching itself back into the air with a flutter of large black wings. 

"Wonder if that's the same raven we saw on the way past the city," Kíli murmured.

"We'll count it as a good omen to see it again, lad." Óin's attempted reassurance felt thin and tenuous against the empty ruins stretching all around them.

Thranduil had taken the lead, walking swiftly and surely along the rubble-choked street. He stopped as they reached a wide plaza with many streets fanning out from it and stood for a few moments with his eyes closed, as if trying to remember something he had once seen. "This way," he said, leading them to a narrow street that led away from the plaza at an angle.

He had memorized a map of the city before its destruction, Tauriel realized. Thranduil must have considered Dale enough of a potential threat to the Woodland Realm that he had sent spies to create a detailed map of the city for him. That was how Thranduil knew that the ancient fortress was the most defensible part of the city if the outer walls were breached. He had analyzed Dale's defenses in case he ever needed to besiege the city.

As part of her training, Tauriel had memorized a map of Lake-Town that had been made for the same reason. King Thranduil believed in being prepared for any eventuality.

The street climbed at a steadily increasing angle until it turned into a series of switchbacks up a very steep hill. They passed through three concentric rings of defenses built to slow down an attacking army. The outer two walls were crude but effective earthworks topped with fieldstone walls. The inmost wall was built of tightly-fitted blocks of stone, with crenellations at the top for archers to pick off attackers as they were still trying to cross the outer two walls.

"That is some very nice stonework for Men," Fíli said. "Almost Dwarven quality."

Bard looked as if he wasn't sure whether he should be offended at the implied dig against his people's building skills.

They passed through an open portcullis in the inmost wall and entered a wide courtyard, easily big enough to hold hundreds of people. The courtyard had small buildings built against the inner wall that included stables and smithies among other, less identifiable buildings, now covered with a thick layer of snow.

A squat, square tower stood in the center of the courtyard with a ramp leading up to a wide doorway shadowed by a portcullis. There were arrow slits in the walls of the tower and its roof was crenellated. In case the city fell and the three rings of defenses were breached, the defenders could retreat into the tower. Tauriel hoped it would not come to that.

"Right." Bilbo clapped his hands together briskly. "Let's get a start on fixing the old place up before our unwelcome visitors arrive."

Kíli gave Bilbo a surprised look then started to chuckle. "Visitors, eh? I like that."

Fíli grinned, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "Aye, we wouldn't want to give old Azog any less than the warmest of Dwarven welcomes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers of the book will remember that it is Gandalf who tells Thorin not to harm Bilbo when he threatens to throw him off the wall. CotF has a slightly different timeline from the book and right now Gandalf is still a captive in Dol Guldur. Unfortunately without Gandalf there to convince Thorin to be reasonable, he actually does throw Bilbo off the wall; however, Bilbo is not injured.
> 
> ***
> 
> translations:
> 
> Khuzdul:  
> gimlinh - star lady  
> mahumbûn - feces (shit)
> 
> Sindarin:  
> Eregnoss - Holly Tree Clan  
> meleth nin - my love  
> mellon nin - my friend

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr at http://garafthel.tumblr.com.


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